


Everything is Great

by skulls_and_stripes



Series: What We Owe To Each Other [2]
Category: BoJack Horseman
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - The Good Place (TV) Fusion, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Abuse, The Good Place (TV) Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23764801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skulls_and_stripes/pseuds/skulls_and_stripes
Summary: Sequel to "Everything is Fine".43-year-old has-been actor BoJack Horseman died of alcohol poisoning in 2007, and now he's stuck in a twisted version of Hell that disguises itself as an idyllic paradise called the Good Place. Along with his previous co-star Sarah Lynn, his annoying "friend" Mr. Peanutbutter, "pre-successful" writer Diane Nguyen, and a vessel that contains all knowledge named Todd Chavez, he must team up with his tormenter, architect Princess Carolyn, in order to hopefully get into the real Good Place.
Relationships: Todd Chavez/Mr. Peanutbutter
Series: What We Owe To Each Other [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692709
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	1. Brand New Couch Part 1

She takes a deep breath. “You gotta get your shit together, PC. So, you took some licks, but you’re gonna bounce back! All you have to do right now is act confident for the call. You’ve  _ got  _ this.”

A screen appears in the air in front of her, displaying Judah sitting at a desk in a darkened room. “ There he is!” she says with all the confidence she can muster. “How's it going, boss-man?”

“Enough chit-chat,” answers Judah flatly. “Is everything in place for version two?”

“Yup! We're keeping everything from version one that made them miserable, and adding a bunch of new stuff that they'll  _ hate _ . For example, all the coffee is from those little pods.” She gestures to indicate what she means, laughing. “Diabolical. Plus, they will all have awful soul mates, of course. You gotta trust me on this, boss. I've thought of everything -- I won't let you down.”

Judah adjusts some papers. “I think you will,” he says, with all the emotion of a brick. “I think this entire project of yours is stupid and doomed to fail. I think you're going to be retired, eliminated from existence and burned on the surface of a billion suns. And I have no doubt that you and your cockamamy experiment will go down in history as colossal failures.” 

“You know,” she protests. “I think if --”

“Goodbye,” he says flatly. The screen vanishes without another word. 

* * *

She clears her throat. “Okay, take two, folks. Any last questions before we start up again?” A woman in the front row raises her hand and Princess Carolyn points to her. “Yes?” 

“Just so I'm clear, we’re not introducing them to each other this time?” 

“Correct,” she confirms. “Obviously, the eventual goal is to get them to torture each other, but first we're going to create some nice, individual torment. In version one... making sure they were friends on the first day, we probably bit off more than we could chew.” 

“We could bite them?” asks an alligator in the back row. “I didn't know we were allowed to bite them.” 

“That's an expression, Chuck.” She notices Tawnie raising her hand. “All right, go ahead, Tawnie.” 

“Yeah,” says Tawnie. “I have some questions about my new character. I feel like I  _ got  _ Herb Kazzaz... like, I  _ got  _ him, you know? But this new character, Denise... I mean, who  _ is  _ she? I don't  _ get  _ her. Is she a quirky best friend type, or more of a femme fatale, ‘sexuality is her weapon of choice’ type?” 

“Both,” answers Princess Carolyn. “Both those things.” 

“I have some questions about my character too,” says the alligator. “Like... can  _ he  _ bite them?”

“No.” She sighs. “Okay, reminder: the most important thing tonight... and this is crucial... you need to get BoJack drunk at the welcome party, so he will say and do a bunch of bad stuff. And then we take that stuff and use it to build our chaos sequence in the morning. For example, you remember last time, he stole all the cotton candy and vomited it, and we put cotton candy-scented vomit everywhere? See, it's those details that make him realize he's in danger of being found out.”

The audience exchanges nervous glances.

“I know that this kind of large-scale deception is not what you were trained to do,” she continues. “There are gonna be days when you're just sick of being around these disgusting people, with their weird, gross little mouths, and their stupid elbows. You're gonna be tempted to say, ‘Screw it. Can't we just go back to HQ and do this the old-fashioned way? Pull out some fingernails, toss someone in an acid pit, fire up the old penis flattener?’ And sure, sure, that sounds nice. But it also sounds  _ easy _ . We're all here because we believe that there's a better way to make humans miserable. And I... I believe in you. So, ‘torture’ on three. Ready? One, two, three…”

“Torture!” yells everyone in unison.

“And biting!” yells the alligator.

“Nope! No biting.” 

* * *

He stares around at the room, glancing at the paper in his hand. “Hey, dude? Can you come back?” He hesitates. “T...Tom? Toad? T... Toto?” He scoffs. “Why don't I ever listen to people when they talk about themselves? No, it's annoying, and I'm right not to.” He reads the paper in his hand. “Okay, Diane, where are you?”

He goes out into the street.

“Hi there,” he says to a random pair of African women. “I'm BoJack.” 

“Nice to meet you, BoJack,” says the one with purple lipstick. “I'm Dr. Indira. This is my soulmate, Mary-Beth.” 

“Love it,” says BoJack. “Love people's names and love learning all about them. Where are you all from?” 

“Well, oddly enough,” answers Mary-Beth. “I was born in Mozambique--” 

“Cool. Listen, do you guys know if there's, like, a neighborhood MySpace with everybody's name listed in it?” 

“Oh, I don't think so,” says Dr. Indira. “'cause, I mean, there's no Internet here.”

His face falls. “There’s no Internet here?” He pauses. “Of course. Duh!” He forces a laugh. “There's no use for it. I always prefer talking to people anyway. People... are like nature's websites.”

“Anyway,” says Mary-Beth. “we're on our way to get some pizza. Would you like to join us? Maybe we could get to know each other a little bit,...”

“Uh, I'm good. I'm gonna explore a little bit. But it was  _ so  _ nice to meet you Dr. Indira, and Mary-B….” He hesitates. “Bye-Bye.”

He turns a corner, and almost immediately runs into a pug wearing overalls over an orange and white crop top. “Oh, sorry, I didn't see you.” She remains silent and he narrows his eyes. “Diane? Are you Diane?” 

The pug wordlessly holds up a small red sphere. He takes it curiously. It’s firm and surprisingly heavy. He’s about to says something when Princess Carolyn grabs his shoulder. “BoJack? What are you up to?” 

He jumps slightly. “Oh, hey there, Princess Carolyn. Just getting to know everyone in the neighborhood.”

She nods approvingly. “Oh!”

“Who was that mysterious woman wearing the overalls?”  
  
“Oh,” she explains. “that's Pickles, and she’s very busy with her own soulmate. Might be a little hard to get to know her.” She laughs. “BoJack... you and I both know that you're not like everyone else in this neighborhood. Everyone here led a remarkable life. But you…”

His heart skips a beat.

“...The work you did as an environmental activist was just extraordinary!” 

“Ah…” He chuckles nervously. “Well, it's the environment. I mean, I loved, um... mushrooms. I can honestly say that.”

“Well, it paid off,” she explains. “Because you were the number one point-getter in this entire neighborhood. And as such, I was just hoping that you could say a few words at tonight's welcome party. You know, just to introduce yourself.” 

“How can I say no?” He forces a laugh.  _ “Can _ I say no? It doesn't feel like I can say no. But if I can, Princess Carolyn, I'm saying no.”

She ignores this. “Okay, so, you'll speak for... maybe an hour or so? Hey, you know what? I... got you a little something to wear here.” She takes a long, narrow cardboard box from a nearby table. “Now, all the top point-getters wear these on the first night.”

He opens the box hesitantly. He manages to stifle his automatic gasp. He whispers under his breath, “Oh, you  _ gotta  _ be kidding me.”

* * *

He walks along, next to Ana, looking down at the embarrassing  _ BEST PERSON  _ sash he’s wearing as he listens to her rant. “So, long story short, my heart is in the Pope, my liver's in the Dalai Lama, and my teeth were strung into a necklace for a child king in French Polynesia. But it got me into the Good Place, so... can't complain.”

“Wow,” he mutters. “Can I... tell you something, just soulmate to soulmate?” 

She places a finger on his lips. “Let’s keep this casual. If you get to know the  _ real  _ me, it’ll ruin everything.”

He laughs, then frowns. “Oh, you're serious. Aren’t we  _ soulmates?” _

“Yeah. I'll see you later.” She walks off, leaving a bewildered BoJack behind.

“Hey there, best person!” says an unfamiliar woman. “You must be BoJack. I'm Jessica, the host.”

“Hi,” he says politely. 

“Princess Carolyn told us all about your speech. I can't wait to hear what you have to say.”

“Me neither, Jessica. Me neither.” 

“Aw, don't be nervous,” she insists, holding out a glass to him. “Here. Liquid courage.”

He hesitates. “Actually, um... you know what? I think I need to keep a clear head. Can you imagine getting drunk before giving a big speech? Getting kicked out of your niece's christening, and then, only later, once you've sobered up, realize you don't even have a niece. It's like, who  _ was  _ that kid?”

* * *

Unable to hear Princess Carolyn and her demons talking in hushed tones about his sobriety, he groans as he finds himself unable to locate anyone who can direct him to either Ana or this “Diane”. He comes to the bar. “Ah, screw it. Couple of quick shots…” His eyes widen as he sees a cotton candy machine. “And then I'm coming for you, cotton candy.” 

He starts pouring the shots, more than a “couple of quick shots” -- enough to get him totally shitfaced. That’s no big deal, he’s done big speeches shitfaced before. Then he hears it. An exasperated stranger, saying clearly, “Please don't make this harder than it already is, Diane.”

He notices Sarah Lynn sitting dejectedly at a nearby table, and without so much as a “hello”, he shoves the glasses toward her. “These are for you. Drink up.” He runs up to the person the stranger was talking to, an Asian woman with long midnight blue hair and rectangular glasses. “Hi. Is your name Diane?” 

“...Yes?” she answers uncertainly. Her eyes widen. “Holy shit, are you BoJack Horseman? I  _ loved Horsin’ Around,  _ it was a  _ very  _ formative part of my childhood--”

“Shh!” he hisses, stamping on her foot. He glances around. “Listen to me very carefully. I’m BoJack Horseman. We need to talk.”

* * *

She blinks.

Panic grips hold of her for just a second as she struggles to make sense of her surroundings. She’s in a waiting room of some sort, presumably. She’s sitting on a comfortable armchair, glancing around the room. Both of the walls to his sides have wooden doors in them, closed doors, and there are some potted plants on stools in the corners of the room. Aside from that, it’s a perfectly boring room; the walls are painted white, and the one directly in front of her has the words  _ Welcome! Everything is fine.  _ painted in large green letters.

Few things communicate that something is terribly wrong like the words “everything is fine”. Yet, for some reason, she smiles.

The door to her left swings open. A young woman, a pink cat with a curl of hair at the top of her head, smiles at her. “Diane? Come on in.”

She obeys.

* * *

“No way,” she chokes. “Soulmates are real?” 

“They sure are,” says Princess Carolyn. “Although, your soul-mate situation is a little unusual.”

“Oh, no.” Her face falls. “I don't have one, do I? That's fine. I mean, who needs a soulmate, anyway? My soulmate will be...books!”

“No, no,” she explains. “it's not that you don't have a soul mate, it's that you have  _ multiple  _ soul mates. Here.” With a flick of her wrist, she summons a screen displaying four symbols signifying people, the Earth, and several complicated numbers in blue writing. “Now, normally, our omniscient system perfectly analyzes each person's profile, and then matches him or her with another person. But in your case, the system matched you with two other people. It's a rare occurrence, like... like a double rainbow, or someone on the Internet saying, ‘You know what? You've convinced me I was wrong.’ 

She gulps. “So, how do you choose who I should be with?” 

“Oh, I don't choose. You do, Diane.” She gestures toward a table, on which two women and a man sit. “This is Angélique, Pedro, and Pevita. According to the system, either Pedro or Diane could be matched perfectly with either Angélique or Pevita. So, figure it out. Should be fun.”

Her brief date with  Angélique consists of laughing over their shared travel experiences and Angélique’s work-in-progress novel that she died before she could finish,  _ Cultural Relativism and Moral Absolutism: An Exploration of Values As Seen Through The Works of Alain LeRoy... both: Locke and Immanuel Kant.  _ Her brief date with Pevita consists almost entirely of Pevita saying that Hawaiian pizza is retarded and Diane spending twenty minutes of silence wondering whether to call her out. When the four of them meet back up and  Angélique asks for her first impressions, she can’t help but grimace. “ Well. Um... I mean, you're both brilliant, accomplished women... and Pedro, you're great too. Just amazing people. I'm surrounded.” She mockingly screams, then laughs at herself. “But, if I had to say... who I sort of immediately bonded to, on a gut level, I think I would say that I kind of feel like my soul mate is... Angél--”

“Wait, wait!” Princess Carolyn frantically bangs on the windows, then runs inside. “There was a mistake in the calculations,” she pants. “We had a four-hour time gap in your profiles on July 22, 2004…” She pulls up the screen from before again. “I corrected that day's events for all of you, and ran the numbers again, and... the final result proves  _ definitively  _ that Pedro is Angélique's soulmate, and Diane, your soulmate is Pevita.”

There’s a long, painful silence.

“That was close,” says Diane. She forces a laugh, then groans under her breath.

Princess Carolyn frowns. “Hey, you guys hadn't made a decision yet, had you?” 

“No!” she insists. “We did not. No one said anything. I didn't hear anything, and I certainly didn't say anything. That's for darn sure.” She gives an incredibly forced laugh, and Princess Carolyn joins in. The two laugh for an uneasily long time, before their giggles become more scattered and Diane finds an excuse to leave immediately.

* * *

Pevita says nothing.

“This is fun,” Diane continues to say. “It's a fun party. There's no question about it, this is a fun situation.” She sees Pedro and Angélique. “Hey, you guys are here. The fun continues... nay, increases!” She forces a laugh.

“You two look nice,” says Angélique. 

“Thanks! And you look….” She hesitates. “...fine.” She rushes to elaborate. “Would I say you look  _ better  _ than anyone else here? No, I wouldn't say that. Do you look  _ bad? _ No. But  _ good?  _ Would I go as far as to say that you look  _ good?  _ Doubtful. Hey, wine.” She notices Todd, who’s holding a tray with glasses of both red and white wine. “Mmm. Do I feel like red or white?”

“Probably white,” says Pevita. “Red wine is so retarded.”

“...Todd, could you show me to the bar, please?”

Todd shows her to the bar, where she notices the tan-skinned woman from the pizza place, with her long brown hair still hidden by an obnoxiously postmodern hat despite the formal setting. “Oh, hey! Diane, right?” She limps toward her. “Denise. We met earlier, remember?” 

Her eyes widen as she remembers. “Oh, yeah, hi. Are you limping?” 

“Yeah, I am. Crazy story. See, I was a trapeze artist in an illegal circus --”

Diane’s face falls. “Angélique.”

Denise’s illegal circus story is forgotten as Angélique walks up to her. “Hey. How are you doing?” 

“Oh, well, uh…” She gives a nervous laugh. “You know. My stomach's in knots and I'm stress-grinding my teeth, and it feels like my soul is being suffocated. You know, just your standard paradise stuff. How about you?” 

“It's been a little uncomfortable,” she admits. “I think Pedro maybe heard you say... that thing you were gonna say.”

A fresh wave of guilt washes over her. “Oh, no. I'm so sorry. I…” She hesitates. “But I have to ask. Do you feel the way I feel?”

She glares at her. “We can't talk about this.”

“Well, I know, but if the numbers were  _ that  _ close, Angélique, I think I'm supposed to…” 

“Stop!” she snaps. “Please don't make this harder than it already is, Diane.”

As Angélique storms off, a familiar-looking horse walks up to her. “Hi. Is your name Diane?”

“...Yes?” she answers uncertainly. Her eyes widen. “Holy shit, are you BoJack Horseman? I  _ loved Horsin’ Around,  _ it was a  _ very  _ formative part of my childhood--”

“Shh!” he hisses, stamping on her foot. He glances around. “Listen to me very carefully. I’m BoJack Horseman. We need to talk.”

She frowns. “About what?” 

He grabs her arm and starts pulling her. “Just shut your mouth, smile at me, and walk over here.” 

“...Okay, you're  _ definitely  _ my least favorite person I've met so far.”

He drags her outside and she sighs. “Okay, I'm sorry, this is  _ really  _ not a good time. I'm right in the middle of something.” 

“Dude,” he hisses. “I'm guessing we have about seconds to talk before someone notices.” He pulls a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. “When I got here, some robot dude appeared out of thin air and gave me this.” 

“You mean Todd?”

His eyes widen. “Oh, that's it! Todd.”

Todd appears behind him with a satisfying  _ bing.  _ “Hooray!”

“Not now, Todd, buzz off.”

“Okay,” says Todd politely before vanishing.

BoJack unfolds the paper, revealing that under the small printed italic writing at the top saying  _ What We Owe To Each Other,  _ it says in large black handwriting,  _ BoJack- Find Diane.  _ “Now, I have no memory of writing this,” he explains. “but it  _ is  _ my handwriting. And that's your name, right? So, for some reason, at some point, I put this note into... that whatever-guy’s robot mouth.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You already forgot his name?” 

“No, I didn't. His Name is... Todd.”

Todd appears behind him with a satisfying  _ bing.  _ “Hooray!”

He gasps in shock. “Get lost!”

“Okay,” says Todd politely before vanishing. 

BoJack turns back to Diane, holding up a small red sphere. “From the second I got here, these nerds have been acting real weird, trying to get me drunk. My soul mate ditches me every time I try to talk to her, and this pug girl gave me this magic sphere thing, and then she just ran away. Something very strange is going on here, and the only person I trust is me, and  _ me  _ told me to find you. So... what's the deal? What's happening? What do you got?”

Diane stares at him blankly. “Uh... I can't…” The sentence dissolves into a series of stammers and a forced laugh. “Look, I'm... I'm sorry, but none of this means anything to me, and I've got my own problems to deal with. I'm sorry, I can't help you.”

She walks off. 

“Attention, everyone!” The host of the party is tapping a spoon on her glass to get everyone’s attention. “Speech time!”

BoJack takes a deep breath and looks at the sphere. “I know you're probably not a magic wizard trapped in a sphere, but if you are,  _ please  _ get me out of this speech.”

* * *

She blinks.

Panic grips hold of her for just a second as she struggles to make sense of her surroundings. She’s in a waiting room of some sort, presumably. She’s sitting on a comfortable armchair, glancing around the room. Both of the walls to his sides have wooden doors in them, closed doors, and there are some potted plants on stools in the corners of the room. Aside from that, it’s a perfectly boring room; the walls are painted white, and the one directly in front of her has the words  _ Welcome! Everything is fine.  _ painted in large green letters.

Few things communicate that something is terribly wrong like the words “everything is fine”. Yet, for some reason, she smiles.

The door to her left swings open. A young woman, a pink cat with a curl of hair at the top of her head, smiles at her. “Sarah Lynn? Come on in.”

She obeys.

* * *

Princess Carolyn introduces her to her soulmate,  Tomás. Tomás is an unnaturally short mouse that makes her feel like a goddamn giant next to him. She’s quickly taken to her irritatingly small house, which has its top floor removed at Tomás’s request -- seriously,  _ screw  _ this guy -- and for some stupid goddamn reason there are framed photos of stupid-ass Joelle everywhere. Cringing, she puts aside her annoyance and announces her intention to go upstairs to prepare for the welcome party. 

“I'm ready whenever you are,” says Tomás. 

She stares at the t-shirt and cargo pants he’s wearing. “Is that... what you're wearing?”

“Oh, yeah. My years treating remote villagers taught me to favor comfort over style. But you should wear whatever you prefer.” 

She hesitates. “Well, I mean... if we’re meant to be soulmates, I guess... I-I should also... dress down.”

Some time later, in baggy cargo pants and an oversized sweater that shows exactly  _ none  _ of her cleavage, Tomás pats her shoulder, or rather the arm above her elbow, which is about as far as he can reach. “My darling, you are in the Good Place. Relax. Feel the breeze on your feet. That's why Crocs have holes in them.” He grins. “I'll get us a drink. Lower that beautiful face for me, won't you?” She lowers her face. “Lower, lower, lower, lower, lower…” Her face finally is low enough for him to jump up and kiss her before he leaves.

Princess Carolyn frowns. “Sarah Lynn, are you alright?”

“Oh, hi,” she says in a strained voice. “Yeah, I'm having a great time. But, uh, if I'm being honest, a few part of my day have been... kinda shitty.” 

The cat’s frown deepens. “Really? Like what?”

She sighs. “Well, my house is tiny as shit, which is  _ fine _ , it's just not what I'm used to, and Tomás is lovely, but we haven't really...  _ clicked  _ yet.” Her voice breaks. “Plus, I  _ never  _ wear clothes like this. It feels all  _ weird.” _

“Sarah Lynn,” she says reassuringly, placing her hands on her shoulders in a way that’s probably supposed to be comforting but instead makes her cringe. “It's very common to experience adjustment pains. But the system matched you and Tomás, and the system is  _ never  _ wrong. But guess what?” She grins. “This is the Good Place. If you want your house to be larger, then just ask. Do you want something this big?” She gestures at the mansion they’re in. “Or maybe bigger, like the Taj Mahal. I know, I know. How about a moon? Would you like to live on your own private moon?”

She hesitates. “...Nah, my house is fine.”

“Okay, all right. But if you change your mind, just ask. Because all the other residents are very happy, so it'll give me plenty of time to deal with whatever requests you make.”

She gulps, then goes to the bar.

BoJack is there, which is kind of a surprise because BoJack is the sort of person who is so awful that his closest friends go to his funeral in the hope of saying some nice things about him and just end up saying, “BoJack was a tall man” and walking off. She tries to get his attention, to say a bunch of things to him, like, “Wow, I thought I’d never see you again!” and “How’d you get into the Good Place?” and “Just so you know, Herb spoke at your funeral, he wanted to say some nice shit about you but the closest he could get was saying ‘BoJack was a tall man’ and then walking off,” but he seems preoccupied.

She gives up and sits down dejectedly. He still doesn’t notice her until something makes his ears perk up, and he shoves his drinks toward her before running off. 

Without hesitation, she drinks them.

* * *

BoJack takes a deep breath and looks at the red sphere in his hand. “I know you're probably not a magic wizard trapped in a sphere, but if you are,  _ please  _ get me out of this speech.”

He walks up to the stage. “The dictionary defines ‘best’ as being --”

“Oh, God,” she slurs as she walks up to the stage. “Boring!” She pushes him off of the stage. “I’d like to say some shit if nobody has a problem.”

BoJack glances down at the sphere. “Thank you, wizard.”

“I am Sarah Lynn,” continues Sarah Lynn. “Sarah Lynn am me. And even though I wasn't the  _ number one point-getter,  _ I just wanted to welcome you all to the neighborhood. You all look so beautiful tonight, with your regular-sized pockets and... regular-sized soulmates. Oh, no offense, darling, wherever you are. Probably somewhere down there.”

Princess Carolyn nudges BoJack in the ribs. “Why don't you try to ease her off the stage and take over yourself?” 

“The point is,” she continues. “we're all good people, right? We all did the right thing whenever we could. And that's why it's so nice to be here among you, in this massive house that I want. I want this house. Give it.” She forces a laugh. “No, I'm just kidding. But really, give me the house.”

BoJack grabs her arms, trying to pull her offstage. “Hey there, hot stuff. Can I get you a cup of coffee?” 

“Get your hands off me!” she yells, pushing him away. “Oh, you think you're better than I am, don't you, just 'cause you're wearing that. You’re not the  _ best person,  _ you’re a stupid piece of shit!”

“...Well, I kind of agree, but --”

“Well, give it to me, then!” 

She makes a lunge for the sash, and successfully tears it off him but in her drunkenness falls backward in her attempt to step away from him. She knocks over a table, and in doing so accidentally knocks a candle to the ground. The tablecloth goes up in flames, and within seconds she’s in the centre of the fire, not being burned due to some sort of side effect of paradise but too drunk to do anything about it.

BoJack grins. “I got her off the stage.”

Princess Carolyn frowns.


	2. Brand New Couch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for threatening suicide and also an implication that someone did kill themself

He blinks.

Panic grips hold of him for just a second as he struggles to make sense of his surroundings. He’s in a waiting room of some sort, presumably. He’s sitting on a comfortable armchair, glancing around the room. Both of the walls to his sides have wooden doors in them, closed doors, and there are some potted plants on stools in the corners of the room. Aside from that, it’s a perfectly boring room; the walls are painted white, and the one directly in front of him has the words  _ Welcome! Everything is fine.  _ painted in large green letters.

Few things communicate that something is terribly wrong like the words “everything is fine”. Yet, for some reason, he smiles.

The door to his left swings open. A young woman, a pink cat with a curl of hair at the top of her head, smiles at him. “Mr. Peanutbutter? Come on in.”

He obeys.

* * *

“Mr. Peanutbutter, let me introduce you to your soulmate, Pickles.” She gestures toward a short, young pug woman enthusiastically posing for a selfie. Princess Carolyn clears her throat. “Pickles, this is him.”

Pickles looks up from her futuristic-looking phone and squeals with delight at the sight of him. “Oh my  _ gosh,”  _ she squeaks. “You’re even cuter in real life!”

Princess Carolyn chuckles. “I’ll leave you two to it. I bet you have  _ loads  _ to talk about.”

She walks off, and Mr. Peanutbutter takes a nervous step toward Pickles. “So, what did you do for a living?”

“I was a waitress.” She checks her phone again. “I’m gonna go grab some ice cream.”

His ears perk up with excitement. “Can I come?”

“Oh, you probably shouldn’t,” she mutters. “I’m getting chocolate, and, uh, that’s  _ super  _ toxic for dogs.” Before he can protest, she adds, “Meet back here in an hour?”

“Sure!” 

She walks off. He frowns. His mind flicks back to Princess Carolyn’s introductory speech. “Hey, uh -- Todd?”

Todd appears behind him with a satisfying  _ bing.  _ “Hooray!”

“Hey, you can make anything, right?”

“Yep.”

He thinks for a moment. “Can I have … a ball?”

Todd effortlessly produces a small red rubber ball, which manages to keep Mr. Peanutbutter preoccupied for the next hour. He’s only just starting to show signs of boredom an hour and a half later when Pickles finally returns, at which point he eagerly holds up the ball. “Look what Todd made me!”

Her eyes widen.  _ “Cool!”  _ There’s something about the excited look on her face that makes him cave without a single word of persuasion.

“...Do you want it?”

She squeals in excitement. “Yes! Oh my gosh!” She eagerly accepts the ball. “Thank you so much, Mister!”

“...Mister?” he repeats uncertainly, rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

She leaps up to kiss his cheek. “I’m gonna go get ready for the welcome party tonight. Meet you there!”

* * *

She does not meet him there.

He can’t seem to find her in the party’s crowd, and he’s forced to watch alone as his good friend BoJack Horseman gives a speech as the  _ best person,  _ and as world-famous pop star Sarah Lynn rather rudely hijacks it.

He spots Pickles eagerly watching the flames as Sarah Lynn knocks a candle onto the tablecloth. He runs up to her. “Hey, Pickles! Where have you been?”

“Uh…” She hesitates. “I have to go outside.” She dashes off, and he frowns.

“...Sarah Lynn?” asks Princess Carolyn anxiously, leaning down to look at her. “Are you okay?”

“Never better,” slurs Sarah Lynn. “Top, uh, top of my game. But, uh, I gotta go and, uh -- Oh, look!” She takes a wad of lint-covered cotton candy out of her pocket. “In one of my many, _many_ cargo pants pockets.” She breaks down into a series of sobs.

Princess Carolyn frowns. “...What the hell is happening?”

* * *

She forced a smile as she tugged on Princess Carolyn’s sleeve. “Princess Carolyn, may I please speak with you privately?” 

“Sure, sure,” muttered the cat as she pulls Tawnie into a deserted room and gives her an expectant look.

“It just feels like I used to be Herb Kazzaz,” she explained. “and now I'm Denise--”

“Denise is a good part, with a... a great backstory,” said Princess Carolyn reassuringly. “You run the best pizza place in the neighborhood. You have a toy cat, and that's cool.” 

Tawnie sighed. “I took this job because it seemed fun and different, and in the original version, I got to break BoJack heart, and it was great. I mean, he was  _ miserable _ . And now,  _ Ana  _ gets to torture him? Ana is a  _ hack _ . I can act circles around her! But I have nothing to do! I am a Ferrari, okay? And you don't keep a Ferrari in the garage.” 

“I hear your concern,” said Princess Carolyn, not hearing her concern. “I do. And I promise you, there is a great arc coming for Denise the pizza lady in about eighty years or so.” She grins deviously. “Diane is going to accidentally destroy your toy cat. It's gonna give you a great chance to shine.” 

She sighed. “Can I just have something that makes me stand out? A mysterious past, or -- a limp! I want a limp.”

“This is supposed to be the Good Place, why would... Okay, I... no, I hear you." She sighs. "I'll tell you what. Go nuts, all right? Limp your heart out.”

* * *

She leaned toward Jessica. “How's it going?”

Jessica sighed. “We're having some trouble with BoJack. He's not engaging in conversation…” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “He’s not drinking.”

“BoJack's not drinking? He brought a flask in the car during his driver's test!” She groaned. “Okay, we need to keep things moving here. I'm about to make him talk for an hour. He'll  _ definitely  _ end up insulting somebody.”

And then, he didn’t talk for an hour, and now, Sarah Lynn is shitfaced and there’s a fire.

Things, to put it simply, are not going well. But, on the bright side, she’s got the four people here. Sarah Lynn is on the floor, Mr. Peanutbutter is standing uncertainly where Pickles used to be, and Diane and BoJack are…

She scans the room.

“...Oh, fish.”

* * *

Diane pulls him outside, where she stamps on his foot before he can say anything. “I know that book.” 

BoJack narrows his eyes. “Is that some kind of nerd pick-up line? Because it's only kind of working.” 

“No, the note you showed me before.” BoJack quickly takes the note out of his pocket and unfolds it, and Diane points at the printed text at the top. “All right, this is from a book called  _ What We Owe to Each Other. _ I used to read it, I took ethics and moral philosophy as an elective in college.” 

He glares. “All right, brag much?” 

“No, I'm trying to help you.”

“Sorry.”

She frowns, looking him in the eye. “I have never seen you before in my life, but I think... somehow, that we know each other.”

There’s a long, ominous silence. 

“...That  _ definitely  _ sounded like a pick-up line,” says BoJack. “And I'm not  _ not  _ interested, but we need to figure this out first.”

* * *

The demons exchange guilty looks.

“It's not that bad, right?” suggests one of them. “I mean, we got a drunken speech. That's good.”

“No,” snaps Princess Carolyn. “It isn't. Sarah Lynn gave the drunken speech instead of BoJack. We can't build a chaos sequence out of Sarah Lynn’s speech, because she thinks she belongs here, ding-dong. Okay, we can still salvage this… Where's BoJack?” 

“He's gone,” answers one demon. “I can't find him anywhere. Maybe he left with Diane? She's gone too.”

“They might have left with Mr. Peanutbutter,” adds Pickles. “I think he might have gone out when I said I was going outside.”

“You told him you were going outside?” chokes Princess Carylyn. “Your only job is to give that idiot vague reasons why you can’t hang out with him!” 

“I got distracted by the fire!” says Pickles defensively. “I  _ love  _ fire. You know, my main job is to burn people with fire.” 

Ana struts into the room, a hand on her hips. “What's up, guys?”

Princess Carolyn’s eyes widen. “What are you doing here? Why aren't you with BoJack?” 

“Oh, I told him not to get attached to me again.” 

“Why would you say that?” she chokes “You’re soulmates!” 

“You told me to.” 

“No, I didn't.” 

“You said,” explains Ana. “that if BoJack tries to confess that he doesn't belong here, find a reason to keep the conversation light, so that's what I've been doing.” 

“That is the  _ worst  _ way to keep the conversation light! Don't…” She groans. “How many times have you specifically told him you don’t want to have a serious relationship with your  _ soulmate?” _

“Five.” She pauses. “No, nine.”

“You  _ dimwit!”  _

“Hey, PC!” She stands up, suddenly defensive. “I was perfectly happy in my old job in the twisting department. People came in, and I twist them until they snapped in half, and I move on to the next one. But this job... is  _ weird! _ It's all talk, no twisting. So if you don't like the way I do it, get somebody else. Maybe you shouldn’t get so attached to me.”

She storms off and Princess Carolyn pinches the bridge of her nose. “Fine. Yeah, you go un-attach yourself. Okay, we can still pull this off, we just need to find the four people. Okay? Okay.” She chuckles nervously. “Right now.”

The demons remain seated.

Her voice rises to a terrifying shout.  _ “Everyone in this room, find those four people!” _

* * *

She continues to pace around the room. 

“Are you gonna talk, or just walk around like a nerd trying to get a personal best on her Fitbit?”

“I'm sorry,” she says defensively. “I'm trying to process a  _ tremendous  _ amount of  _ insane  _ information. I mean, you're not supposed to be here, but you and I  _ clearly  _ met here, somehow, before now. I mean... does that mean that I'm not supposed to be here?” 

“I don't know,” answers BoJack. “Were you a good person on earth?” 

“I... I think so. I spent my life trying to be a good person…” She gasps. “Oh, no!” Her eyes widen. “I used almond milk in my coffee, even though I knew about the negative environmental impact.”

He blinks. “What?”

“BoJack, what do we  _ do?” _

“ I don't know!” he hisses. “But we better figure it out soon, or we're doomed.”

* * *

He looks up at the starry night. “...Hey, Todd?”

Todd appears with a satisfying  _ bing.  _ “Hooray!”

“Hi, Todd!” His ears perk up with excitement. “Um, can I tell you something?”   
“Sure.”

“I can’t find my soulmate.” He frowns. “And she keeps avoiding me, and I don’t know why. I feel so lonely.” His ears droop. “I don’t want to go back to my empty house. Can I stay in your house?”

“I don't have a house, Mr Peanutbutter.” answers Todd. “I live in a boundless void.”

“...Can I go there?” 

“No. It's a boundless void.”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“So, what you're saying is, there are certain aspects of your existence here in the Good Place that are confusing for you, and you're searching for someplace to go where you feel less lonely.” He nods. “I know somewhere you could go.”

Mr. Peanutbutter’s ears perk up, and without hesitation he wraps his arms around Todd. They enjoy a long hug before they finally separate.

Todd blinks. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you were nice to me.” He smiles. “You're my friend.”

“...Okay!” Todd hesitates, then wraps his arms around Mr. Peanutbutter.

* * *

“Okay, so, if we got all the way to Scanlon, we must have been studying  _ very  _ intensely for a  _ very  _ long time.” She pauses. “Or, you grabbed a random book of mine and just tore a page out.”

BoJack grimaces. “I'm gonna be honest, that sounds more like me.”

There’s a knocking on the door, and Diane hurriedly opens it to see Princess Carolyn. “Ah! BoJack and Diane. What a pleasant surprise. I'm so happy you two have met. I'm just going door-to-door, apologizing for the commotion earlier tonight.” She clears her throat. “The first night in the afterlife can be a little overwhelming.” 

“Don't worry about us, Princess Carolyn,” lies BoJack, hurriedly hiding the note in his pocket. “We are doing just  _ fine.” _

“Oh, good, good. Glad to hear that. Well, it's getting late. Diane, allow me to escort you back to your house.”

Diane rubs the back of her neck nervously. “Um…”

Sarah Lynn saunters into the room. “Hey, guys. Uh, BJ, just wanted to give you back your stupid-ass sash.”

BoJack cringes at the nickname. “That’s okay. You can just keep it.” 

“No!” she insists. “I don't deserve it. I was a total shithead today.”

Princess Carolyn frowns. “Sarah Lynn, please. It's late. I think what we should do--”

“No,” she interrupts. “Look, ever since I got here it feels like something's been _ off.”  _

An unnaturally short man walks into the room. “Sarah Lynn! There you are. I've been worried  _ sick  _ about you.” 

BoJack raises an eyebrow. “That's her soul mate?” He snickers. “Is there a second one of him that stands on his shoulders?” 

Pevita walks into the room. “Diane! There you are. I've been worried  _ sick  _ about you.”

Princess Carolyn looks outright distressed by this point. “Okay... all right, everybody. Now we are  _ really  _ imposing on BoJack here. Diane, let's everybody take off…”

The mysterious pug girl walks in. “Hey, has anybody seen my soulmate?”

BoJack leans over to Diane, his voice low. “This is the mysterious pug who gave me the magic sphere. I have to figure out what it means -- could be the key to this entire mystery.” 

Todd appears with a satisfying  _ bing.  _ “Hi, BoJack.” He has Mr. Peanutbutter next to him.

Pickles’ eyes widen.  _ “There’s  _ my soulmate!”

BoJack blinks, staring at the red sphere. “Okay, I no longer think she's a mysterious pug, and I'm pretty sure this is just a piece of garbage.” 

Ana Spanikopita struts inside, a hand on her hip. “Babe, there you are. I've been worried--”

BoJack’s eyes widen. “Let me stop you. Can I guess? You've been worried  _ sick  _ about me.”

Ana blushes. “...Try not to get attached to me.”

She walks off. Princess Carolyn throws up her hands in frustration. “Sure, why not?”

Sarah Lynn blinks. “The hell is going on?” 

“Let me explain, gorgeous,” says BoJack, ignoring the way she cringes at the flattery. “I don't know what this place is, but it is  _ certainly  _ not the Good Place. Princess Carolyn is forking with us.”

Mr. Peanutbutter’s ears perk up. “Like a prank show?”

Yeah, like a prank show.” He holds up the note. “Except according to this note, it's a prank show we've all been on before.”

Princess Carolyn’s eyes widen. “What note?”

He shows her the piece of paper. “Apparently, I wrote myself a note, and stuck it in that Tom dude’s mouth.” 

“Todd,” corrects Diane. “His name is Todd.” 

“Oh, right, Todd.”

Todd appears behind him. “Hooray!”

“Hi Todd!” yells Mr. Peanutbutter.

“Hi Mr. Peanutbutter.”

Princess Carolyn gives a  _ wicked  _ laugh. “Are you  _ kidding  _ me? BoJack Horseman, you sneaky little so-and-so. That was some very quick thinking. I'm extremely impressed. And to be honest... I'm relieved. At least there's an explanation for why this all went south so fast. But you're not gonna be so lucky next time.”

BOJack’s heart skips a beat. “Next time?

“Yeah.” She laughs wickedly. 

“...She's gonna do it again!” He turns the note to the other side, frantically searching for a pen, but Princess Carolyn quickly dashes his hope.

“That's not gonna work this time, dummy.”

Sarah Lynn gulps. “Guys, this is so  _ crazy!  _ I am  _ freaking out!  _ If I do not get some drugs inside me  _ right now  _ I am probably going to kill myself.”

Princess Carolyn looks her dead in the eye. “You already did.”

And then, she snaps her fingers. 

* * *

“Well, as humans like to say, third time's the charm, right?” She nervously shifts her weight from foot to foot as the demons grumble collectively. “I take full responsibility for the false start. But I assure you all, there is no note this time. I'll prove it to you. Todd!”

Todd appears on the stage with a satisfying  _ bing.  _ “Hooray!”

“Hi, Todd. Open your mouth please.” He does so, and she shoves her hand into hismouth, reaching deep into his stomach. “Thank you. See, no notes. No clues or loopholes... nothing in there!” She removes her hand. “Thank you, Todd.” Todd vanishes with a satisfying  _ bing. _ “So, let's all just pretend the last attempt never even happened. Any questions?”

One demon raises her hand. “Maybe it's none of our business, but did you tell Judah what happened?”

She grimaces. “Yes, I did. And he completely understood.” She forces a chuckle. “As a matter of fact, he found the whole thing kind of funny. But he was very supportive, and he says he's  _ very  _ excited for us to get going again. So, anyone else?” Tawnie raises her hand. “Anybody? No?” She ignores Tawnie’s visibly increasing agitation. “Then let's get out there and make some miseries!”

* * *

She takes a deep breath. The screen beeps to indicate an incoming call. She answers it. “Hey there, boss-man.”

Judah frowns. “You were supposed to call me this morning, give me an update.”

“...Oh.” she laughs. “Right, sorry. Yeah, it's just the... the chaos sequence was going so well... better than the first time, in my opinion. BoJack got  _ completely  _ drunk last night. He talked for, like, an hour. You know, even flashed somebody, so we had a  _ lot  _ to work with.” 

He shows no signs of emotion. “So, attempt number two is on track so far?” 

“Oh, smooth as silk. Everything's great.” She notices some screaming noises in the background. “Oh! Sounds like everything's going well back there too.” 

He gives a slight nod. “We're trying out the new butthole spiders. They're enormous. You know, good old-fashioned torture... the way it's supposed to be.” He frowns. “Good luck with attempt number two. And remember, there will be no attempt number three.”

She gulps and hangs up. She takes several deep breaths before she answers the office door.

“...BoJack? Come on in.”


	3. Yesterdayland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diane and BoJack find out they're in the Bad Place and rush to Secretariat's house; Princess Carolyn struggles as her employees go on strike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for the d slur and internalised homophobia

The third attempt goes well.

The chaos sequence on day two, inspired mostly by some of his comments toward Sarah Lynn, makes BoJack realise he’s in danger of being found out. He asks Todd to direct him to someone who can help him -- and as the only real people in the neighbourhood are himself, Sarah Lynn, Mr. Peanutbutter, and Diane, he’s easily directed to Diane.

It’s on day 128 that things start to go downhill.

Diane anxiously stares at the inexplicable obelisk in front of them. “Princess Carolyn, what do we do here?”

“I don't know. Apparently, the Bad Place knows that one of you actually belongs down there with them, and they want that person to get inside the obelisk, or they're gonna take all of you.” 

Mr. Peanutbutter gulps. “I can't go. I'm too young to die. And too old to eat off the kids' menu! What a stupid age I am.” 

“I'd never survive down there,” says Sarah Lynn. “They should take BoJack. He’s tall.”

“Oh, excuse me. You  _ wish  _ you were this tall.”

Diane steps forward. “I'll go. I deserve to go. You guys can stay.”

They descend into an inane argument that doesn’t end until BoJack gasps aloud. “Holy shit.” They all turn to him expectantly. “You guys, don't you get it? Princess Carolyn is torturing us. That's why our lives have been so miserable since the moment we got here. This isn't the Good Place. It's the Bad Place.”

* * *

The eleventh attempt falls apart on day 43 when BoJack’s fake soulmate tries to perform a three-hour spoken-word jazz opera. Attempt 108 is even worse -- she leaves the door unlocked, and BoJack overhears her talking to herself about him being in the Bad Place. Whether his soulmate is Greg, Charley, Sarah Lynn, Lerf, or Mr. Peanutbutter, he figures it out.

“I mean, why even bother at this point?” she rants, during attempt 458. “I'm obviously never gonna get it right.” She talks in a low voice to mock BoJack. “‘I'm BoJack. I'm so smart. I'm actually in the Bad Place.’ Blah, blah, blah, blah. Judah still thinks I'm on version two. I just keep lying to him, and it's really bad, but I... I mean, I have to keep trying. I'm in too deep. And I'm really fat right now. I'm stress-eating, and I'm gaining weight in my thighs.” She gestures toward her thighs. “I mean, look at that.”

“...Ohh,” says BoJack. “So sorry. Who are you? And where am I?” 

“It doesn't matter,” she answers blankly. “This one doesn't even count.”

* * *

Attempt 802, she thinks, might be the one. They’re a week in and it’s going well. Diane’s teaching BoJack, and he  _ hates  _ it. Even better, Pevita’s being kept as Diane’s soulmate from the second attempt, and BoJack is  _ not  _ coping well with it. Everyone’s  _ miserable.  _ Including, apparently, her demon employees. That would explain why none of them except Tawnie show up for the meeting. 

She sighs. “Tawnie, where is everyone?” 

“They're not coming, Princess Carolyn.” She holds up a file. “You have lost control of this experiment, so we are on strike until our demands are met.”

* * *

She slams her file onto the desk. “I speak for the entire crew, Princess Carolyn. We're sick of it. We can barely remember what we're supposed to be doing anymore, plus…” She speaks in an Australian accent. “I spent weeks perfecting this excellent Australian accent, I did.” She switches back to her normal voice. “And then I never got a chance to use it.” 

Princess Carolyn gives her an incredulous look. “You're still upset about the size of your part?”

“Yes, I want a more important role. But that's just my demand; all of us have something we want to do differently.”

Princess Carolyn flips through the file. “Some people want bigger houses. Gayle wants a different backstory where she was an MMA fighter? Gunnar wants to bite and/or nibble on humans while they sleep.” She sighs. “You do know, Tawnie, that if I were to do some of these that it would be a dead giveaway?” 

“And I can help you explain that to them,” says Tawnie honestly. “But some of these are doable. And you're gonna do 'em.”

* * *

Exhausted with BoJack’s complete inability to learn  _ anything,  _ Diane suggests a break. The two go outside to get some clam chowder in complete silence. Diane frowns. “Where  _ is  _ everyone?”

“Who knows?” replies BoJack. “Maybe they finally figured out clam chowder is disgusting 'cause it's basically a savory latte with bugs in it.” 

Diane sniffs the air. “Is someone smoking a cigar?” She follows the scent until she finds Charley Witherspoon smoking in an alleyway, talking to another resident.

“Princess Carolyn really screwed this up. The regular Bad Place was fine. If the four-headed flying bears ain't broke, don't fix 'em.” 

“What was wrong with impaling? I loved impaling. Hey, Janet, got a light?”

A lava monster walks into view. “Uh, yeah, obviously I have a light. You know, you guys aren't supposed to be smoking.” 

“You're supposed to keep your human suit on,” snaps back Charley. 

“Those suits are really itchy for us.” 

“Who even cares if they see us?” protests the unfamiliar resident. “They're just gonna get rebooted anyway.”

Diane and BoJack run. 

“This is the Bad Place,” pants BoJack. “I knew it! And clam chowder is disgusting. It's just hot ocean milk with dead animal croutons.” 

“Okay,” says Diane. “but what do we do, panic? Freak? I usually panic, but I am happy to freak.”

“No. We have to stay cool.” He takes a deep breath. “As my mom always used to say, if a cop handcuffs you to a bike rack, there's always  _ something  _ you can gnaw through.” 

Diane’s eyes widen. “Your mom always said that?”

He ignores her. “Think. Come on, brain -- Todd!”

Todd appears with a satisfying  _ bing.  _ “Hooray! How can I help you?”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” protests Diane. “How do we know he's not a part of it?” 

BoJack hesitates. “We don't, but we gotta risk it.” He turns to Todd. “Todd, can we, like,  _ leave  _ the neighborhood, get as far away as possible? Is there anywhere we can go?”

* * *

Some time later, they’re on a train. “So we're in the Bad Place,” says Diane. “and I know why: almond milk. I knew it was bad for the environment, but I  _ loved  _ the way it coated my tongue with a weird film.” She sighs. “Who else is being tortured? Are we the only two?” 

“I got to assume Mr. Peanutbutter is as well,” answers BoJack. “I knew him, he’s an ass. Also, Sarah Lynn is a candidate as far as I'm concerned. Yesterday, she told me that she was Britney Spears’ best friend, but Britney Spears wasn't  _ her  _ best friend. She  _ sucks.”  _

Diane gives him an incredulous look. “No offense, but I can't  _ believe  _ you and I ended up in the same place.” 

“Hey, I'm not thrilled about it either, bud. I always assumed the afterlife was full of cool people, not nerdy dykes.”

“Hey, don’t call me a dyke.”

“Whatever.” He stares out the window, frowning.

* * *

They knock on the door. “Hi,” he rushes to say. “It’s  _ great  _ to meet you, I’m a  _ huge  _ fan, and -- You gotta help us. I'm BoJack. This is Diane. And see, we thought we were in the Good Place, but as it turns out…”

Secretariat groans. “Yeah, guys. I know. You've been here fifteen times already.” 

He blinks. “What?” 

“Did you bring the cocaine I asked for? Please tell me you  _ somehow  _ remembered this time. Papa needs his medicine.”

BoJack blinks. “We've met before?”

Todd waves enthusiastically. “I’m Todd.”

“I know.”

* * *

“Tawnie,” she begs. “let's look at the big picture here. Now, if you all can just stick with my plan and we pull it off, we'll be heroes. You could write your own ticket. You might even land the Jared from Subway account.” 

“Yeah,” counters Tawnie. “but I don't think you can pull it off. You can't even pull off that fake gold necklace.”

Princess Carolyn, on instinct, reaches for her necklace defensively. “That was very mean, but I'm gonna move past that in the name of unit cohesion.”

“You're gonna reboot those four dum-dums one more time,” orders Tawnie. “and then I'm taking over. I'm going to execute my version of this neighborhood. You see, I've been working on it while all of your versions fell apart.” 

Fury building, Princess Carolyn stands up. “This is insubordination. And if you do not do what I tell you immediately, you are going down.”

Tawnie, as answer, slams a large folder onto the desk. “That's a complete report of  _ every  _ mistake you've made,  _ every  _ screw-up,  _ every  _ reboot all laid out in  _ excruciating  _ detail. Now, I'm sure your boss would love to hear all about how ‘attempt number two’ is really going. So actually, if you don't do what  _ I _ say,  _ you're  _ going down. “She switches back to the Australian accent. “Down under.”

* * *

BoJack frowns. “Is it always the three of us?” 

“It's always at least BoJack and Todd,” answers Secretariat. “Usually Diane’s in the mix. Sometimes Mr. Peanutbutter is here. One time, him and Sarah Lynn were here, and she was the  _ only  _ one who brought me cocaine.” He groans. “Do you have anything I can snort, like a crushed-up aspirin or some eye shadow or cocaine?” 

“Still no,” answers BoJack. “There's only one question we need to answer right now, and that is, what do we do next? I mean, this place doesn't seem terrible.”

He and Secretariat speak at the same time. “Maybe we should just stay here forever.” 

“You always say that,” says Secretariat. “And you always end up going back. I mean, sometimes you go back because you feel  _ bad  _ your friends don't know what you know. Sometimes you go back because you walk in on me while I'm masturbating, and sometimes you go back because I walk in on you while I'm mastrbating. But no matter what, you  _ always  _ go back. You formulate a plan to defeat Princess Carolyn, and you head back.” 

“Okay, a plan.” Diane stands up. “We need a plan, but…”

She and Secretariat speak at the same time. “What if we come up with a plan we've already tried before? Will you please stop that?” 

“Yeah,” says Secretariat. “ just to help you out a little, I've written down every plan you've ever come up with, which obviously never worked, because you're here, and you're back, so good luck.” He takes down a painting and shows them the back, which has several post-it notes attached with brief explanations of the plans.  _ “Physically attack Princess Carolyn,” _ reads BoJack.  _ "Seduce Princess Carolyn. Make Princess Carolyn think she's the one in the Bad Place. Catch that magic panda, use her powers."  _ He frowns. “Oh, I'm guessing that was Sarah Lynn.” 

Secretariat chuckles. “She was  _ so  _ high.”

* * *

He walks around the empty neighbourhood, ears drooping. “Todd?” He gets no response. “...Anyone?”

He finally sees Princess Carolyn, who’s staring dejectedly over the edge of a bridge. She looks up when he hears him. “Oh, hi there, Mr. Peanutbutter.”

“Hey, PC.”

She sighs. You know what... Can I talk to you for a second? I'm in a tight spot, and I could use someone to bounce some ideas off of, okay?” She pauses. “Oh, yeah, real quick, you're really in the Bad Place, and you're being tortured.”

* * *

He squints at the page. “I know it says here that we already tried throwing Mr. Peanutbutter under the bus, but maybe we should revisit that. Throw him a little bit harder. Maybe under a bigger bus. What do you think?” 

Diane stares blankly. “I think this is pointless. We're trapped in a warped version of Nietzsche's eternal recurrence.” 

He groans. “Oh, cool,  _ more  _ philosophy.  _ That'll  _ help us.” 

“Well, don't you see the problem?” She gestures wildly. “We are experiencing karma, but we can't learn from our mistakes, because our memories keep getting erased. It's an epistemological nightmare.” 

“Ugh, even your  _ nightmares  _ are boring.” 

She gives him an incredulous look. “You... you are so mean, BoJack. You're just like those childhood bullies who said I would never be an author.” 

“And you are so irritating! In one of these reboots, I probably strangled you and then went to the Even Worse Place, but you know what? I bet it was worth it.”

He storms back inside to the living room, where Secretariat is reading a magazine. “ Ugh! Sorry, can I just vent to you for a second? Diane is  _ so  _ annoying. I just... I cannot believe that she is the one I'm stuck here with.” 

“Uh-huh,” says Secretariat flatly. “Wow, crazy.” 

BoJack glares. “Oh, sorry. Jeez, man, I thought you could be a person for, like,  _ two  _ seconds and listen to me.” 

“I  _ have,  _ BoJack.” He turns a page. “I have listened to you talk about Diane fifteen times in fifteen different ways. Let me just cut to the chase. You are jealous.”

He scoffs. “Jealous? Of  _ what,  _ stupid-ass gay Pevita?”

“Well,  _ yeah.”  _ He finally looks at BoJack. “Except, you’re not jealous that she has Pevita for a soulmate. You’re jealous that she doesn’t see anything wrong with that.”

“What are you talking about?”

Secretariat finally stands up and grabs a DVD. “Dude,” protests BoJack. “I do not want to watch  _ Cannonball Run _ right now.” He continues to insert the DVD. “All right, what happened in the first one, so I'm all caught up?”

The TV displays a crackly, low quality video of BoJack. With Secretariat. In bed.

“So….” mutters the recording of BoJack uncertainly. “Does this make me, uh, not straight?”

“Maybe a little,” snarks the recording of Secretariat. 

BoJack scoffs. “Very funny, but that... that's obviously not real.” 

“Oh, that's real, baby,” insists Secretariat. “Yeah, this was, like, the sixth time you guys were here. We had sex the previous three times, so I cut a little hole in the wall so I could tape us. Call it my lookin' hole.”

He gulps. “How many times have we … ?”

“Eight different days, but like, twenty different sessions.”

He stares at the recording, in which he’s still musing aloud on the implications this has on his sexuality. “And how many times did I say... that stuff?” 

“Oh, only once. Oh, God, I hated it. It, like, really killed the vibe for me. See, after I watch the porno I made starring iz, I watch you talk about your feelings to cool down. It's, like, anti-porn.”

He frowns. “I am  _ definitely  _ straight, though. I mean, why would you show me that?” 

“I don't know,” he admits. “You guys are, like, trapped here forever. I feel bad. You know, I'm rooting for you to come out.”

“No, there is no  _ come out.  _ I’m straight.”

“Sure, BJ, keep telling yourself that.” He ignores how BoJack’s entire body stiffens at the nickname. “Also, it doesn't matter if I told you that or not, because when Princess Carolyn finds out she's failed again, she'll just reboot you.”

BoJack clears his throat loudly. “Diane, Todd, we're leaving.” He grabs the DVD. “I am taking this with me.”

“Oh, no,” deadpans Secretariat. “It's my only copy. Don't.”

* * *

“How did it come to this?” she continues to rant. “I was just trying to do something innovative and different that would improve the way we make people’s lives miserable for eternity.”

Mr. Peanutbutter opens his mouth to suggest something. “Mm, well --”

“Shut up. What are my options? Do I have any? I mean, I can't go along with her plan. It'll be a spectacular failure. But I can't ignore her or she'll rat me out to Judah. I'm trapped.” 

“You're saying a lot of words right now,” says Mr. Peanutbutter. “and I only know some of them, like ‘rat’ and ‘Mr. Peanutbutter’, but I know a little wisdom I can give you.”

She raises an eyebrow. “I know everything that happened in your life, and it was all stupid, so I highly doubt that.”

“I once opened a theme park in Labrador Peninsula,” he explains. “It was called Yesterdayland. One day, Captain Peanutbutter and I got into a fight because I'd framed his girlfriend for boogie board theft, so he started a new theme park called Tomorrowland and  _ immediately  _ challenged us to see who could get more visitors. He said, ‘We’ll count how many visitors we get over twenty-four hours, starting at midnight.’ That night, as the clock struck twelve, me and my crew came together with a determination we had never shown before and sabotaged all their rides.” 

Princess Carolyn blinks. “You know, that inane story actually contains a bit of good advice. Thank you, Mr. Peanutbutter.”

“You’re welcome!” He smiles to himself as Princess Carolyn walks off. “I give good advice. Guess that's why I'm in the Good Place.”

* * *

By some incredible stroke of luck, three of the people are in BoJack’s house when she enters. “Oh, there you guys are.” 

“No, stop,” snarls BoJack. “No more lies.” He frantically gestures toward Mr. Peanutbutter, who’s standing near the door. “Get over here.” 

“We know  _ everything,”  _ says Sarah Lynn. “I don't understand much of it, but, yeah, I  _ know  _ it.”

“Your sick torture plan is not working, okay?” says BoJack. “'Cause we keep figuring out your little puzzle. We're  _ winning _ , which means  _ you're  _ losing. So you have two choices here, buddy: keep failing over and over or realize  _ we're  _ actually the ones with all the power here.”

She waves a hand dismissively. “Yeah, no, uh... We're on the same page.”

Diane blinks. “What?” 

“I want to team up with you guys.”

BoJack stares at her. “What? Why? You do? What?” 

“I'm in a bit of a bind, and I could use some backup, or as Mr. Peanutbutter put it, um, I need a new theme park. So, what do you say?”

There’s a long, ominous silence.

“...New best friends?”


	4. Team Furball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Princess Carolyn tries to persuade the four people to team up with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for suicide (the scene cuts out right before it happens so we don't actually see it happen but we DO see the character threatening to do it and grabbing a sharp object). the same scene also includes someone being a cunt to someone with an eating disorder. to skip the triggering stuff just stop reading after the words "Sorry, I forgot about Joelle" and skip to the next paragraph

“You wanna team up?” chokes BoJack. “You've been torturing us and lying about it!” 

She waves a hand dismissively. “Let's not get all caught up on who lied to who or which one of us created an entire fake reality in order to cause eternal misery for the others. That's ancient history.”

Diane raises an eyebrow. “It was happening until twenty seconds ago.” 

“The point is that…” She grimaces. “Circumstances have changed. And now, all of us teaming up is our best option.” 

Mr. Peanutbutter’s ears perk up. “I love being on teams. Oh, we need a team name. Um... the Labradors!”

“Slow down, mutt,” snarls BoJack. “She wouldn't offer us a deal for no reason. She  _ needs  _ us.” He turns to Princess Carolyn. “Why?”

“Because, as you said, you keep beating me.” She sighs. “Look, I built this neighborhood as a way to torture the four of you, psychologically, for thousands of years. And you keep figuring it out and taking all the fun out of it.”

“Fun?” chokes Sarah Lynn. 

“Today, there was a new development that really chapped my nips. One of my employees is blackmailing me. Tawnie. She runs the clam chowder place in the main square,  _ A Little Bit Chowder Now.”  _

“Oh,” says Diane. “the place with the chowder fountain.” 

“No, that's  _ Pump Up the Clam,”  _ corrects BoJack. _ “A Little Bit Chowder Now _ has the lazy river of chowder. Ugh!” He retches. “How did we  _ ever  _ think this was the Good Place?” 

“Tawnie thinks that she can run this neighborhood better than I can,” explains Princess Carolyn. “And she wants to start her version in thirty minutes. I am supposed to reboot you, erase your memory and turn control over to her.” 

“How are we supposed to team up with you if you wipe our memories again?” asks Diane. 

“Easy. I'm not going to. You're going to act like you've been rebooted and pretend that Tawnie and the others are torturing you. But then, on your own time, in private, you can study ethics, ogle mailmen, do whatever you want.”

Mr. Peanutbutter’s ears perk up. “Can I play _ Wii?” _

“Sure you can, buddy.”

“Yes!”

Princess Carolyn sighs. “Guys, there's no debate here. My boss gave me two chances to make this work. Suffice to say, I tried more than two times. If he finds out, we're all in hot water. Literally. They will  _ boil  _ us. We will be the main ingredient in a chowder of pain.” 

BoJack groans. “People meeting. Bedroom. Now.” He drags Diane, Mr. Peanutbutter, and Sarah Lynn into his bedroom. “Anyone have any ideas?”

“You know,” says Mr. Peanutbutter. “believe it or not, I actually found myself in a very similar situation a few years ago, except that time, Michael was Javier Bardem and the Bad Place was Vanessa Redgrave's panic room.” 

“Okay, stop talking. Do not talk again for one hundred hours.” He turns to the girls. “What do we do?”

“We team up with PC,” answers Sarah Lynn.

“Okay, hot take, but I like your confidence. Tell me why.” 

“She has a necklace!”

Diane pinches the bridge of her nose. “Oh, no.” 

“I always trust girls with necklaces. Once, this girl with a necklace came up to me at the gun range in a shooting lot and said she'd give me six hundred dollars if I put these weird turtles in my duffle bag and brought them to Daytona Beach. So I hotwired a swamp boat to Daytona and the girl paid me the six hundred dollars. My point is, you _always_ trust girls with necklaces.”

BoJack groans. “Look, Princess Carolyn’s a liar. I  _ know  _ liars. I was literally an actor, and I was the best one there ten years in a row.”

Diane raises an eyebrow. “Your show only went for nine years.” 

“Proves my point! This is a trick. There's no  _ way  _ we trust her.”

Diane clears her throat. “Before we make a decision, we need to get as much information as possible.”

However reluctantly, BoJack leads them back out to the living room. “Okay, bitch. We got questions. First off, how can we  _ possibly  _ trust you?” 

“You can't,” answers Princess Carolyn. “But you have to. Logically, you shouldn't but you have no choice. I mean, I wouldn't, if I were you. It's a crazy thing to do. But you gotta.” 

“What happens if we don't?” 

“Most likely, I reboot you once more, you figure it out again, Tawnie tells my boss, he shuts everything down. I get punished, you end up spending the rest of eternity in the _real_ Bad Place, up to your necks in a volcano full of scorpions.” 

“I'll tell you what I want to know right now before we go any further,” says Mr. Peanutbutter. “Did the Canada Labradors win the Super Bowl last year?”

Princess Carolyn chuckles, then frowns. “Oh, you're serious. Uh, no.” 

“Will they ever win the Super Bowl?”

“Mr. Peanutbutter, I can't predict the future. But no.” She laughs. “They won't.” 

BoJack clears his throat. “Hey, Todd?”

“Hooray!” says Todd, appearing behind them with a satisfying  _ bing.  _

“Do you have something Peanutbutter can play with?”

He summons a tennis ball that bounces out of the room, and Mr. Peanutbutter runs after it.

“How many different versions of this place have we been through?” asks Diane. 

“Uh, let's see…” With a swipe of her hand, she summons a screen displaying a bar chart. “Around eight hundred. The longest one was eleven months. Uh, this current one has only been going for one week. Boy, you guys barely know each other. It's gonna make this tough.” 

Diane points to a particularly short bar. “What's that super tiny line?” 

“That's the shortest one, eight seconds. It was a butt reboot. I sat on the activator by mistake.”

“Princess Carolyn,” asks Todd. “was I also rebooted eight hundred times?” 

“Yes. Why?” 

“Every time a Todd is rebooted, he increases his social awareness and abilities. I might be the most advanced Todd in the universe.”

Sarah Lynn frowns. “So Todd isn't with you?” 

“No. There has to be a Todd in every good neighbourhood and an Emily -- that’s sort of the bad equivalent -- in every Bad Place neighbourhood.”

“Emily is my ex-girlfriend!” adds Todd cheerily.

“If you're not a person,” asks BoJack. “why do you look like a cat?” 

“Everyone in the Bad Place Bureau of Earth Affairs gets randomly assigned an animal body so we can get the feel of how best to torture you. I gotta say, it took me a long time to get used to the flappy bits.”

He wriggles his eyebrows. “Ooh, sexy.” 

“Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, BoJack. I was talking about my vagina.” 

He ignores this comment. “Secretariat is fake, I bet.” 

“No, the Medium Place is real. So annoying how you managed to slip away from me all those times.”

“Why even tell us about any real thing?” asks Diane. “Why not just lie about all of it?” 

“Lies are always more convincing when they're closer to the truth.” 

“That's true,” says BoJack. “There was this one time Sarah Lynn couldn’t act sad for a scene, so I went on this whole terrifying rant about how she can  _ never  _ stop giving her fans what they want because they’re the only ones who will always love her.” 

Princess Carolyn clears her throat. “Trust me, don't trust me, it doesn't matter. We're running out of time, and I'm your only option.” 

“We're running out of time and I'm your only option?” repeats BoJack skeptically. “A lot of girls your age said that to me back in the 80s. But I never settled for them. And then one day, I became famous, and I  _ wished  _ I’d settled for them.”

“You just disproved your own argument,” says Diane.

He ignores her. “You guys do whatever you want. I'm out.” 

“No!” protests Princess Carolyn. “My plan only works if all four of you are on board.”

“Then you better get cracking on a new plan, bitch, because so far, I haven't heard a  _ single  _ good reason why I should help you.” 

“All right, how about this?” She hesitates. “You help me trick Tawnie and all those other goons, I can get you to the real Good Place.” 

There’s a long, ominous silence.

“There's a way to get to the real Good Place?” asks Diane.

“It's complicated. It may take a while to arrange... especially since I'll have to do it in secret... but yes, yes, there is a potential method of transportation. I can get us there.” 

“Us?” scoffs BoJack. “You, Ms. Diabolical Torture Girl, are gonna try to join us in the Good Place?” 

“Yeah. If I stay in the Bad Place, I'm doomed. But if I rescue four pitiful, foul-smelling humans from eternal damnation... hit 'em with the big puppy dog eyes. ‘Please, sir, take pity on me, I've changed…’ and all that crap, maybe I can earn a spot, too.” 

“We didn't deserve the Good Place based on our time on Earth,” says Diane, fawning. “Will they even let us stay?” 

“I gotta be honest, I have no idea. But at least if you help me fool Tawnie, your brains don't get erased every two weeks.”

BoJack sighs. “Okay, all people who have not already been suckered by Princess Carolyn, another team meeting.” He drags Sarah Lynn and Diane into another room. “This is definitely a trap. We figured out her game every time and now she's just trying a new way to mess with us. Teaming up with a demon is  _ insane.”  _

“Maybe,” says Diane. “But I think we have to do it.” 

“Are you kidding me right now?” he chokes. “You once considered quitting your job because one of your coworkers talked over you and you though he was too evil for you to be his friend, but working with a demon is  _ fine?” _

“Okay, look, I spent my whole life trying to be a good person and apparently, I failed. I want us to get better and I want us to stay that way. You understand that, right, Sarah Lynn?” 

“I understand  _ nothing,”  _ snarls Sarah Lynn. She marches up to Princess Carolyn. “PC, there's been a mistake. I belong in the Good Place. The real one with the good people. Who’s gonna get me there, like,  _ now?” _

“Me, and you're wrong.” She sighs. “Listen, sweetheart, you've only been in this timeline for about a week. So I think I'm gonna fast forward things a bit. There's a very good reason why you ended up here. You never  _ cared  _ about the people you were helping. You did it only for fame or status or to spite your family.” 

“Bullshit,” she protests. “I wasn’t perfect, but nobody is. I raised millions for charity! I was a good person.”

Princess Carolyn hesitates. “You know, in all the reboots, I never showed you how you died. I was saving it in case I ever needed to really make you miserable. But it's hilarious.” At her glare, she adds, “Of course, I mean sad. But it might help you come to grips with who you really were. Do you want to remember it?”

* * *

“Sarah Lynn,” announced the interviewer. “Pop star, philanthropist, model and now cover girl for  _ International Sophisticate Magazine. _ Sarah Lynn, welcome.”

“Thanks for having me!” said Sarah Lynn with fake enthusiasm. “I am  _ so  _ glad to be here!”

“Let's begin with your recent achievement,” began the interviewer. “Well, next week, you will travel to Cleveland, Ohio to become the youngest person ever inducted into the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame. Remarkable.”

She paused. “Is there a question?” 

“Don't you find that remarkable?”

“Well,  _ yeah.”  _ She giggled. “As you know, I released my latest album only six months ago and yet, the critics thought it was so  _ great  _ that the Hall of Fame decided to forget its year waiting period. And it wasn’t even a rock album! I’m  _ exclusively  _ a pop musician.” She paused. “Seriously, how did that even happen?”

“Must be because of how great you are,” said the interviewer. “I bet you’ll have loads of friends there! Can we expect a  _ Horsin’ Around  _ reunion?”

Sarah Lynn winced slightly. “BoJack won’t be there, obviously, since he went and died. And Joelle’s in London doing some stupid-ass theatre thing. But Bradley Hitler-Smith will be there, which is … something.”

The interviewer squealed in delight. “Don't you think you and I could be friends?” she asked. “We have a lot in common -- we’re both Capricorn, we were both homeschooled, and we both did a show as kids where we were the only girls in the main cast.” She laughed. “I'm sorry, I forgot about Joelle.”

* * *

She continued to yell, but Joelle didn’t even look up from the book she was reading. “Congratulations. You have all the attention. Once again.”

“Didn’t you even  _ see  _ the interview?!” choked Sarah Lynn. “I called your theatre stupid, and the interviewer forgot you exist! Why didn’t you call me to be mad?”

“Because I didn’t  _ want  _ to,” answered Joelle flatly. “And because after you said all that shit about my body after my parents died, I realised that you  _ like  _ pissing me off. You know why? Because your need for attention is so bad that you’re willing to start fights just so that you can feel like people are paying attention when they tell you off.” She paused. “Aren’t you meant to be off in Cleveland getting welcomed into some music thing?”

“I delayed the party,” answered Sarah Lynn. “Had to come make sure you hadn’t gone and eaten yourself to death, since that’s usually why you don’t call to yell at me.”

Joelle didn’t even flinch at the comments. “No, you came to do what you always do: make a scene and embarrass yourself.”

Sarah Lynn stamped her foot. “So I'm just an embarrassment to you? Is that what you think of me?”

Joelle turned a page. “Honestly, I don't really think about you.”

Sarah Lynn’s face fell. She hesitated for a moment. Then, she grabbed the nearest sharp object -- a rusty bayonet. “Take that back.”

“Or what, you’ll stab me?”

“I’ll -- I’ll stab  _ myself.” _

“Sure you will.”

Sarah Lynn’s shouting rose to an absolute screech, and Joelle remained silent. Eventually, all eyes were on her, and if she didn’t follow through they would think of her as a liar, they would stop loving her, she wouldn’t be praised. Maybe this way she could be a matyr.

* * *

Her face falls. “I died in London?”

Princess Carolyn raised an eyebrow. “I don't think that should be your biggest takeaway from that story.”

“Is that really all I cared about?” asks Sarah Lynn. “Just being better than Joelle and getting attention? I mean, I  _ did  _ get attention. I got  _ way  _ more attention than Joelle... Oh.” Her entire body seems to droop. “Oh, I see.” She buries her face in her hands, tears leaking from her eyes. “Oh, God.’

“Oh, come on, now,” says Princess Carolyn. “It's not all bad. Imagine you're me and you're designing a torture chamber for people who think that they belong in the Good Place. I mean, you were  _ perfect.” _

“I've always wanted to be perfect at something…” sobs Sarah Lynn. “And now I’m just the perfect  _ bitch.”  _ She wipes her face and stands up. “I want to do it. I want to become the person I pretended to be. I agree with Diane. We should team up with Princess Carolyn and all try to build a better Sarah Lynn.”

BoJack groans. “Great. Yet again, it's everyone against BoJack. Because everyone  _ except  _ BoJack is an  _ idiot _ . Why am I the only person who clearly sees what's going on here?”

“It's not that we don't understand the risks,” says Diane. “we just wanna become better people and this is our best chance.” 

“Oh, I get it. 'Cause you're  _ so  _ much better than me.”

Their argument devolves into a series of accusations yelled over each other, and doesn’t stop until they all notice Princess Carolyn laughing.

“What’s so funny?” demands BoJack.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing. How do I explain this?” She thinks for a moment. “If I were a  _ real  _ cat, you would all be furballs. You’re gross and wet and hairy, and all I planned to do was spit you into a bin of eternal torture and forget about you. And yet, somehow, my very survival depends on you, the furballs, agreeing to help me. That’s funny.”

“We’re  _ furballs  _ to you?!” chokes Sarah Lynn.

“Well,  _ yeah.” _

BoJack stamps his foot in frustration, and Diane grabs his shoulders to calm him down. “Okay, okay, forget about her. Focus on us. Kant wrote it is our duty to improve ourselves. So whatever Princess Carolyn’s reasons for doing this, she's giving us the best chance to improve ourselves.” 

BoJack hesitates. “Okay, I have to admit, you're making a lot of sense right now.” He sighs. “I need to just untangle all of this. Give me a minute to think about it alone.”

Diane agrees, and he proceeds to do exactly the opposite.

* * *

He’s halfway out before she catches him. “Gonna bail, huh?” 

He does his best to look innocent. “Hm? No. Why... why would you say that?” 

“Well,” explains Diane, gesturing. “you got a bag full of clothes, you stuffed a bunch of pillows and a hobby horse in your bed to make it look like you're asleep, and you're  _ literally  _ sneaking out the back gate.”

“...Okay.” He sighs. “I'm going to Secretariat’s. I mean, look at my options here! I can spend eternity with my  _ idol,  _ free to do basically whatever I want, or I can make a deal with an  _ actual  _ devil so that I can then do homework in secret. And by the way, you're not my friends, okay? We've known each other for, like, a week.” 

“You know it's more than that,” says Diane. “We've been through some version of this eight hundred different times. And who cares that it's only been a week? How long do you have to know someone before you do the right thing?”

“Nine weeks,  _ minimum! _ Look, Diane, I don't owe you  _ anything _ . I gotta do what's right for me.” He hesitates. “You can come with me if you want. I got a mop we can put in the bed.” 

Diane sighs. “Good luck.”

She goes back inside. BoJack turns to leave, then hesitates. He goes back inside and takes a seat next to Princess Carolyn. “I got a couple more questions.”

“Sure,” she mutters. “Take your time. It’s not like we’re in a hurry or anything.”

“How many times, in all the reboots, did I ask Diane for help, she refused to help me, and then I had to get better on my own?”

“Never. She always helped you.”

He groans. “Really?”

“Yep. No matter how I set it up, you found her, confessed you didn't belong, asked her for help, and she said yes. Now, her agreeing to help was part of my plan. What  _ wasn't  _ part of my plan was it actually working. Drove me nuts. Pesky little nerd. Stuck with you and always helped you overcome your biggest problem.” 

“Assuming that's my selfishness.”

“No,” she snaps sarcastically. “It's that you lied about ‘getting’ radiohead. _Yes,_ your selfishness.”

“I'm not  _ that  _ selfish.” he says defensively.

Todd appears with a satisfying  _ bing. _ “BoJack, your cocaine and escape train are ready.”

“Not now.” Todd vanishes and he turns back to Princess Carolyn. “One more question. You know  _ everything  _ about our lives, right?”

“I’ve  _ read  _ everything about your life,” she answers. “I can’t be sure I remember all of it, that’s more of a Todd thing. But all the major events, I could tell you by heart.”

He hesitates. “Okay. In 1993, I got a voicemail message from a man named Herb Kazzaz, saying that he still wanted to be my friend and he wouldn’t be mad if I called him back. Was he telling the truth?”

“Yeah.”

His face falls. “But I ruined his life!”

“Letting him get fired was only  _ part  _ of ruining his life. The other part was abandoning him when he  _ really  _ needed a friend.” She cringes. “Besides, you people are all weird and sentimental. You could have approached him at any time between then and 2010 while still having a relatively high chance of being forgiven.”

BoJack stands up and approaches Sarah Lynn, Diane, and Mr. Peanutbutter. “Okay. I think Princess Carolyn is a liar. I think there's a ninety-nice percent chance she's messing with us. But, she's asking us for help, so we should help her. Because that's what Herb would do.”

Mr. Peanutbutter blinks. “Who’s Herb?”

“Long story.” He turns to Princess Carolyn. “All right. We're all in. We'll help you.” 

She sighs in relief. “You finally listened to reason.” 

“On  _ one  _ condition.” He watches in glee as she takes a step back in shock. “You wanna be on our team, you gotta be on  _ our  _ team. Which means the nerd over here is gonna give us all lessons on how to be better people. Including you.” 

“Oh, no,” she insists, waving a hand dismissively. “No, I won't be taking any classes. I'm an immortal being with abilities you can only dream--”

“Yeah, and we're an alcoholic dickhead, a social justice warrior, a bitchy drug addict, and  _ literally  _ the least self-aware person I have ever met.”

“And who am I?” asks Mr. Peanutbutter. “Describe me now!”

“We are  _ all  _ going to take classes. We are  _ all  _ going to improve. And the second you betray us, I walk into Tawnie stinky chowder restaurant and tell her everything. You agree to those terms, and you can join us on Team Furball. So what's it gonna be?” 

Princess Carolyn hesitates.

“You're running out of time. And  _ we're  _ your only option.”

* * *

“We should have a few hours to ourselves,” she explains, locking the door behind her. “Tawnie’s working on her performance for the welcome party tonight.” 

Diane grimaces. “It looks like pretending to enjoy her singing is gonna be half our job here.” 

“I got her to tell me how she was gonna torture you at the party, which is basically the same way I did. BoJack gets drunk, hogs all the cotton candy, insults people, et cetera. Whatever bad stuff you do becomes the basis for the chaos tomorrow morning.” 

“Okay, okay,” says BoJack. “So my job is to get drunk and insult people.” He grins. “I think I can hack that.” 

Princess Carolyn turns to Diane. “Now, Diane, I'm gonna need you to act nervous and embarrassed by BoJack.”

She cringes. “Way ahead of you.”

“And Mr. Peanutbutter and Sarah Lynn, you two just be yourselves.” She clears her throat. “So I told Tawnie that I would handle the surveillance on the four of you. That'll let us meet each day for Diane’s ethics lessons, which will  _ apparently  _ include me. Even though that's  _ transparently  _ insane.”

“Cool,” says Mr. Peanutbutter. “And, um, Todd, you're not gonna rat us out, right?”

“Well, Mr. Peanutbutter,” says Todd. “I've been thinking about this a lot over the last one and a third milliseconds. I'm not allowed to lie, but my purpose is to make people happy. And since you're the only actual people here, I'm on board for whatever fun little schemes you guys come up with.” 

BoJack grins. “Okay, bring it in. Team huddle.” The six of them form a huddle. “The Bad Place is about to be outsmarted by a cowardly traitor, four dum-dums, and a robot.”

“Not a robot,” corrects Todd.    
“We can do this. Team Furball on three. One, two, three.”

“Team Furball!” the group yells, finally separating from the huddle.

“Labradors!” yells Mr. Peanutbutter. “I still think that’s better.”


	5. Existential Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Princess Carolyn struggles to come to grips with the possibility of death; Sarah Lynn discovers that even when she knows their plans, the demons are still able to torture her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for mentions of abuse and discussion of suicidal thoughts/suicide

She wipes the grin from her face and replaces it with a smile that looks polite, but also forced. “Certainly a lot smoother lately. And based on my surveillance, our four people don't suspect anything.” 

“Yeah,” says Tawnie. “because we're  _ killing  _ it!” 

She forces a chuckle. “You sure are. Here are the torture ideas you asked me to write up for next week.” She hands her a large stack of stapled paper.

Tawnie groans. “So long. You're not supposed to be torturing me. From now on, make all your memos one page max with pictures. Also, Quinston over here already came up with a sick idea for how to torture Sarah Lynn. Tell him, babe.” 

Quinston grins. “We're going to have Sarah Lynn throw a party for Gunnar's birthday, but no one will show up because we'll also be throwing a party, and it will be way better. Boom.” She and Quinston laugh. 

“Where do you get these incredible ideas?” asks Princess Carolyn.

“Oh, that one just came to me. It just, like, popped right into my noodle.”

* * *

“So that's their plan,” she finishes, leaning against the door frame.

“This doesn't seem so bad,” says BoJack. 

She ignores him. “It really tucks my nuggets. I worked so hard on my torture ideas, and theirs are so basic. These millennials, they have no work ethic.” They stare at her. “Oh, sorry, a millennial is someone who has only been torturing people for a thousand years.”

Diane glances outside, then closes the door. “Okay. Coast is clear. Not a demon in sight. Except for, you know... Is that what we should call you? Demon?” 

“Well, I mean, it's not really accurate, and we consider it to be a little racist. But it's fine.” 

Diane marches over to the chalkboard. “Well, um, let's start our first lesson. Sarah Lynn and Mr. Peanutbutter will have to make it up since they're both off being fake-tortured.” 

“All right,” says Princess Carolyn. “Well, I've read everything on your syllabus, and how do I put this delicately? It's all, ah, stupid garbage.” 

If Diane’s hurt, she certainly doesn’t show it. “Look, we have to start somewhere. So how about Socrates?” 

“All right, all right. Let me just get into the mind-set of a person.” She takes a deep breath. "Oh, I'm a person, and my breathing tube is next to my eating tube.” She wriggles her fingers. "Oh, and look, my arms end in stupid little sticks. Okay. Proceed.”

* * *

Dejectedly, she carelessly hangs another boring banner. “What’s the point? I already know nobody’s coming.”

“That's why they're doing this,” says Mr. Peanutbutter unhelpfully. “It's what you're best at. Just like I'm the best at getting empty water bottles to stay on the roof of a Pizza Hut.” 

Her eyes widen. “You know what? I  _ am  _ the best at planning parties. Tawnie may be a demon and all, but does she have taste? Music? Does she know  _ everything  _ about architecture!”

“Yes! She does!” He wilts under her glare. “No. She doesn't.” 

“What if I throw a party that is so  _ amazing  _ that it's actually  _ better  _ than the party that's supposed to win? When they realize they could have come to my party, they'll be sad. _ I  _ won't be sad,  _ they'll  _ be sad. Todd!” 

* * *

He watches with a grimace as Princess Carolyn tears pages from philosophy books and carelessly throws them in the general direction of the trash can. “PC is  _ not  _ into your class. Right now,  _ I'm  _ the best student. I'm going to be the... velociraptor.” 

Diane raises an eyebrow. “You trying to say valedictorian?" 

“...No.” He clears his throat. “Look, dude, this isn't your fault. You've been teaching her ethics for half an hour, and she's been evil since... the beginning of time.” 

“Oh!” Her eyes widen. “Maybe the reason Princess Carolyn can't latch onto the ideas is because she's immortal.” BoJack tilts his head and she elaborates. “If you live forever, then ethics don't matter to you because, basically, there's no consequences for your actions. You tell a lie, who cares? Wait a few trillion years, the guilt will fade. Before I can teach Princess Carolyn to be good, I have to force her to think about what we used to think about: that life has an end, and therefore our actions have meaning.” 

“That's what you used to think about?” chokes BoJack. “I used to think about how it's weird that there’s no word for when you’re both gay and straight.” 

She raises an eyebrow. “You mean bisexual?” 

“...No. You're not getting it. And my thing is different, so shut up.”

She ignores him. “Princess Carolyn?” 

“Yeah?” 

She sits next to her. “Is there any way that you can die?” 

“Yeah, actually, there is.” She hesitates. “It's called retirement. It's rare, but when one of us really screws something up…” She gestures a finger across her throat. 

“And … what happens exactly?” 

“Well, it's fairly straightforward. My essence would be scooped out of my body with a flaming ladle, and every molecule of my body would be placed on the surface of a different sun.” 

“...Sure,” says Diane. “So is that what would happen if your boss found out that you defected to our side?” 

“...Yeah.”

She takes a deep breath. “Okay, so that might actually happen, and if it did there would be no more... Princess Carolyn. Think about that for a second. Imagine being retired. Everyone else is here. But you? Poof. Gone. Nothingness. Inky black void. Done.” 

“Okay. I'll think about that.” She frowns and her eyes widen. “Huh. So... you're saying that I would be... No... Me?” She starts wailing loudly and lets herself fall sideways into Diane’s lap.

“Okay!” says Diane.  _ “Now _ we're getting somewhere.” 

“Dude,” hisses BoJack. “you broke Princess Carolyn.” 

“No, no,” she insists. “This is good. She's having an existential crisis. It's a sort of anguish people go through when they contemplate the silent indifference of our empty universe. Look, the good news is, if she can work through this, it's the first step towards understanding people ethics.” 

“And what if she can't?” 

“Then, she'll be a lifeless shell of misery forever, and we're all doomed.” Her eyes widen. “Okay, I will be right back. Gotta go grab some Camus.” She walks off, and BoJack groans.

“Hey, buddy. How you doing?” Princess Carolyn stares blankly at him. “Can I get you a snack? Do you eat? I can never remember. What do you eat? Babies? Do you want me to get you a big fat baby? What flavor baby?” His eyes widen. “How about a Cool Ranch baby?” 

“Searching for meaning is philosophical suicide,” she mutters. “How does anyone do anything... when you understand the fleeting nature of existence?” 

“It's pretty easy, man. I mean, you learn about death when you're a kid, and it's just not that big of a deal.”

* * *

He eagerly pointed at the photo. “Who’s that man?”

Beatrice carelessly released a puff of smoke. “Crackerjack. Your uncle.”

His eyes widened. “I have an uncle?” At her nod, he added, “Can I meet him?”

“No.”

His face fell. “Why not?”

“Because he’s dead.”

He could somehow tell that he had hit upon a sore point, but childish curiosity pushed him forward and he was yet to learn why angering his mother was a bad idea. “What does dead mean?”

“God, don’t they teach you anything at school?” She groaned. “When someone is very old, or if they get sick or hurt badly enough, sometimes doctors can’t help them and they  _ die.  _ Do you know what happens when you die?” He shook his head timidly.  _ “Nothing.  _ You never feel or think  _ anything,  _ ever again. It’s like being asleep, except there’s no dreams, and you  _ never  _ wake up.”

BoJack gulped. “But … that only happens to  _ some  _ people, right?”

“Oh, it happens to everyone, eventually. It’s going to happen to your father, and it’s going to happen to me, and it’s going to happen to you.” She inhales a large lungful of smoke. “I hope it happens to you first.  _ Nothing  _ is worse than losing a parent.”

* * *

I would say I outdid myself, but I'm always this good. So I just did myself.” She smirks at her own joke.

The door swings open. Diane and BoJack walk in, dragging Princess Carolyn between them. “Red alert, red alert. We need help.” 

Mr. Peanutbutter’s ears droop. “What's wrong with Princess Carolyn?” 

Sarah Lynn grimaces. “Uh-oh. I know that look. She just snorted a bunch of printer toner.” She crouches down to be on eye level with Princess Carolyn’s depressed slouch. “PC, listen to me, you have nothing to worry about. You still have around seventy per cent of your brain left.” 

“No, no,” explains BoJack. “this is more like a  _ philosophy  _ overdose. Basically, Princess Carolyn just smoked a big bowl of ennui, and now she's having an existential crisis. So, we need to cheer her up.” 

Diane clears her throat loudly. “Look at how pretty the restaurant is. Didn't Sarah Lynn do a good job?” 

“Parties are mere distractions from the relentlessness of entropy,” answers Princess Carolyn in a low tone. “We're all just corpses who haven't yet begun to decay.”

Diane grabs a handful of balloons. “Yeah, but... balloons!” 

BoJack groans. “Okay, we all head over to Tawnie party together. We babysit Princess Carolyn in shifts so that no one sees she's a catatonic blob.

_ “Or,”  _ suggests Sarah Lynn. “We could just stay here. Everyone’s gonna be here soon.” She laughs. “Unless I’m dead wrong.” 

* * *

Sarah Lynn is dead wrong. 

Quinston’s party is infinitely superior to her own. There are flying stations, build-a-bears with real bears, and anything she could imagine. She walks around dejectedly while Mr. Peanutbutter runs off to the ball pit. Diane and BoJack have just agreed to watch Princess Carolyn together when they realise she’s nowhere to be seen, and the only sign of her is a car revving into the party.

She walks out of the car, accompanied by Todd, with his sleeves rolled up and his beanie gone.

“...You okay?” asks BoJack.

“Okay?” she scoffs. “I'm a new woman. I decided to try shoving my feelings down deep. I feel so much better. It's like I'm surfing on this wave of positivity. Have you met my secretary, Toad? He's a lot like Todd, but he doesn't pretend like she has all the answers.”

Diane cautiously waves at Toad. “Hi, Toad.

“Oh no,” he explains. “It’s still me, Todd. Princess Carolyn just asked that I change my appearance, and also say things like, ‘You're so funny,’ and ‘So how many quarterbacks are in a home run?’" He giggles.

“Man,” says Princess Carolyn. “repressing your feelings is  _ great _ . I was feeling stressed all the time, and now it's just so easy.” She walks off to get some food into Todd, despite his protests that he doesn’t eat, and Diane groans.

“So she's moved on from existential crisis to just straight-up mid-life crisis.” 

“That's good, right?” says BoJack. “I did that after I turned forty. I almost died of alcohol poisoning a bunch of times, and then I  _ did  _ die of alcohol poisoning, but apart from that it was pretty harmless.”

She raises an eyebrow. “No, no. This is worse. I mean, an existential crisis is an acknowledgement that life is absurd. And that absurdity needs to be confronted, but this is just denial. And at any moment that denial could collapse, and she'll be a  _ mess _ . She is a Jenga tower of sadness.” 

BoJack grins despite himself. “For an immortal being, she's pretty fragile. I mean, the girl contemplates her own death for one goddamn minute and completely loses her grip on reality?”

* * *

His rant began before the door was even fully open. “You  _ don’t  _ have to keep ‘checking up on me’ like this, okay? I  _ barely  _ knew her. She was basically dead before anyway. The only bad part is that my stupid-ass mom keeps calling me about it.”

Herb frowned. “BJ, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

BoJack didn’t  _ say,  _ “Pfft, I’m never okay,” but he certainly thought it very loudly. Instead he said, “It’s not like we were close. And I mean, she got a lobotomy before I was born, so she was basically brain-dead anyway.”

“Losing a relative is always hard,” said Herb. “It’s normal to be upset.”

“Hey, who said I wasn’t upset? I’m  _ pissed.  _ Mom wants me to come to the goddamned funeral. Can you imagine? Why, I’ve got half a mind to…” He chuckled. “Lobotomy joke. Sorry, I shouldn’t.”

Herb’s frown deepened. “Are you  _ sure  _ you’re --”

“Oh, get cancer, dickwad,” he snapped. “You don’t need to walk on goddamn eggshells just because some old brain-damaged bitch died. Just because the  _ only  _ family member I had who wasn’t  _ actively  _ trying to make me constantly feel horrible about myself is  _ gone  _ does  _ not  _ mean you have to coddle me!”

Herb blinked. “Your grandma was the only family member you had who wasn’t actively trying to make you constantly feel horrible about yourself?”

* * *

One very stressful party later, Diane and BoJack drag Princess Carolyn inside, and BoJack gestures to the huge stack of books in his arms.  “Which one of these confusing French books will make her normal again?” 

“It's not that easy,” answers Diane. “I mean, emotionally, she's all over the map right now, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but I don't think this can be solved with a book.” 

“What's the big whoop? I dealt with death, and I was fine.” 

_ “Were  _ you?” she presses. “I mean, you never had one moment where you were freaked out by the permanence of death? Never  _ one  _ moment like that?”

* * *

“Hey, man, you got toothbrush holders?” 

The employee pointed him in the direction of the toothbrush holders. “Sure, yeah, right over here.” 

He began scanning the products, and scoffed at the sight of a holder with four sample toothbrushes in it. “What's this? Who has four toothbrushes?”

“No, that's like, for a family.” 

“Family?” His face fell. “Like, a whole family and their toothbrushes all together? Two slots for the parent toothbrushes and two slots for their kids?” 

“Yep.” 

“So the parent toothbrushes can be close to the kid toothbrushes and... watch over them and…” His voice was breaking. “They can all talk about their... toothbrush feelings. And they can hold their little toothbrush hands when they're sad? Make sure no harm ever comes to their little bristles?”

“...Sure.”

He cleared his throat loudly. “Well, this is stupid anyway.” He stormed out of the store, knocking down plungers as he walked, and bribed the security guards that tried to get him to clean up after himself. 

* * *

He takes a deep breath. “I don't know if what I'm going to say is going to hurt or help, but screw it.” He crouches in front of Princess Carolyn. “Do you know what's really happening right now?” She shakes her head. “You're learning what it's like to be a person. All people are aware of death. So we're all a little bit sad... all the time. That's just the deal.: 

She scoffs weakly. “Sounds like a crappy deal.”

“ Well, yeah. It is. But we don't get offered any other ones. And if you try and ignore your sadness, it just ends up leaking out of you anyway. I've been there. And everybody's been there. So don't fight it. In the words of a very wise Bed, Bath, and Beyond employee I once knew... ‘Go ahead and scream all you want. But you're going to have to pay for that toilet plunger.’"

There’s a knock on the office door, and without being let in, Mr. Peanutbutter cautiously walks into the room. “Um…” he mumbles, with uncharacteristic anxiety. “Sarah Lynn’s really upset about the whole party thing. I think someone should go talk to her.”

“I’ll go,” volunteers BoJack. “I know her best. You two, uh, just have fun together or something.”

He walks off, ignoring Diane’s protests that she barely knows Mr. Peanutbutter. Once he’s gone, the two make brief, fleeting eye contact.

Sparks fly. Todd quickly apologises for this, explaining that he’s working on some bizarre invention and that everyone ought to leave because there’s a huge risk of electrocution. Mr. Peanutbutter goes back to his house, and Diane goes with him.

* * *

He finds her sitting in a chair at the party she attempted, staring blankly at a wall. “Hey, you okay?”

“No,” she answers blankly. “God, I want to  _ die.” _

He blinks. “Uh…”

“You know what I mean.” She leans back in her chair. “You know, I always used to do this stupid  _ thing  _ back on Earth, where I would have the most  _ pathetic  _ problem and instantly jump to threatening suicide. ‘Oh no, I forgot to buy milk, I should just kill myself now!’ ‘Joelle’s mad at me, I want to kill myself!’ ‘Joelle’s  _ not  _ at me, I’m going to kill myself!’” She forces a chuckle. “Well, that went  _ really  _ well for me.”

“I, uh…” His face falls. “I get what you mean.”

“And I mean, I don’t even know if I really  _ wanted  _ to. Did I  _ actually  _ want to stab myself, or was I just that desperate for Joelle to give me attention? Who knows, but I went ahead and did it anyway because I’m a huge dumbass, and now it’s just more of the same.” She sighs. “I really thought I could throw a better party than an actual  _ God  _ or whatever. And worse, what's this say about me?  _ This  _ is how they torture me, and it  _ works _ . Am I really that shallow?” 

BoJack hesitates. “Listen, back on Earth, whenever I got a new girlfriend, I would rate them in five categories: sex, coolness, sexiness, patience, and smartness. I would give you an eight in every category.”

She frowns. “Eight’s okay, I guess.”

“No, no. Eight is the best. It was a scale of one to thirteen, but eight was highest. The scale went up and then back down like a tent.”

She blinks.  _ “Why?” _

“I dunno, but I was  _ really  _ high when I thought of it, so that’s probably part of it.” He sighs. “Lately, you've been really down on yourself. But you're the most amazing person I've ever met... besides Secretariat, and he didn’t even  _ try  _ to stop us from being tortured, so I'd only rank him a ten.” 

“Which is worse than an eight?” she clarifies. At his nodd, she adds, “That's  _ so  _ unnecessarily confusing.” 

“The point is: you're cool, sexy, patient, and smart-brained. I've never banged you, but I bet you're good. 'Cause you're good at everything. You're awesome. Be nicer to yourself.”

* * *

_ "Excellent progress this week,” _ he reads from the page.  _ "Sarah Lynn devastated by party mishap. BoJack continues to be a selfish monster, creating burden for Diane." _ He glares. “I brought you back from the brink of an existential coma, bitch.”

Princess Carolyn waves a hand dismissively. “No, no. I have to embellish your misery on these fake torture reports so that my boss doesn't get suspicious. But really…” She sighs. “I am grateful you pulled me out of my funk.”

Sarah Lynn flops down onto the couch. “Is it time for ethics or what? Where’s Asian Daria?”

“I’m not sure,” admits Princess Carolyn. “She went off with Mr. Peanutbutter yesterday and I haven’t seen either of them since.” 

* * *

There’s a long, painful silence.

“So,” begins Diane. “We should probably talk about…”

“That was  _ awesome,”  _ interrupts Mr. Peanutbutter.

“It … was. I didn’t expect you to be so good at …  _ that.  _ But we should still talk about --”

“Want some breakfast? I know how to make cereal?”

“Sure, but Mr. Peanutbutter, we should probably--”

Before she can finish, he leaps out of bed. She has to grab hold of the blanket to prevent it from being lifted to expose her body. It’s not cold, but even in the privacy of Mr. Peanutbutter’s empty house, she can’t help but worry the demons are watching her. She certainly doesn’t want them to see her naked.


	6. The Trolley Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diane struggles with her relationship issues and her attempts at teaching Princess Carolyn ethics.

She proudly gestures toward the set of models. “This is an exciting day. We are going to tackle The Trolley Problem.” 

“Is this a game?” asks Mr. Peanutbutter excitedly. “I go first. I call blue.” 

“There's no... this is…” She grimaces. “No, this is a thought experiment first introduced by British philosopher Philippa Foot in 1967.” Everyone notes this down. “You are driving a trolley when the brakes fail, and on the track ahead of you are five workmen that you  _ will  _ run over. Now, you can steer to another track, but on that track is one person you would kill instead of the five. What do you do?” 

“Do we know anything about the people?” asks BoJack. “Like, is one of them an ex-girlfriend or that snooty girl from Rite Aid who was always silently judging my purchases? It's like, _ yeah,  _ chicky, a Baby Ruth and condom. I see the irony. Keep a-swipin'.” 

Diane chooses not to tell him off for this. “You don't know any of the workers.” 

“Okay, well, then that's easy. I switch tracks. Kill one person instead of five.” 

“But this is  _ hard,” _ protests Sarah Lynn. “because I’ve only been on a trolley once and I was  _ really  _ high at the time. It traveled backwards from a penguin grotto to a garage of adult tricycles. I woke up face-down in a  _ Toys ‘R’ Us  _ parking lot.” Everyone stares at her. “Um, kill one, save five.” 

“Good!” says Diane. “But there's a lot of other versions of this, like -- what if you knew one of the people? Does that change the equation? Or what if you're not the driver, you're just a bystander? Or let's throw the trolley out altogether. Let's say you're a doctor, and you can save  _ five  _ patients. But you have to kill  _ one  _ healthy person and use his organs to do it.” 

“But that's not the same thing,” protests Sarah Lynn. 

“Why not? It's still choosing to kill one person to save five, isn't it?” She turns to Princess Carolyn. “Princess Carolyn, you've been kind of quiet. What do you think about all this?” 

“Well,” answers Princess Carolyn. “obviously the dilemma is clear. How do you kill all six people?” She holds up her whiteboard, which has a crudely drawn diagram. “So I would dangle a sharp blade out the window to slice the neck of the guy on the other track as we smush our five main guys.” She notices everyone staring at her. “Oh, I did the thing again, didn't I?” 

“Yep,” says Diane, grimacing. “Ten more, buddy.”

With a sigh, she stands up and marches over to the chalkboard, speaking aloud as she adds lines to the half-fulled board. “People good. People good. Why is that so hard to remember? People... What is it?” 

“Good.”

“Good.”

One very irritating philosophy class later, BoJack leans against a door frame as Diane finishes erasing the chalkboard’s contents. “Oh, hey, twerps, we have an hour before we have to pretend to be tortured by Tawnie. You want to hang out? We could work on our forced grins. Check mine out.” He forces a laugh. _ “This place is miserable, _ etcetera.” 

Diane grimaces. “That sounds fun.”

“Right?”

“But, uh … I’ve gotta prepare some lessons for next week. Mr. Peanutbutter, want to join in?”

“Sure,” says Mr. Peanutbutter.

BoJack raises an eyebrow.  _ “You’re  _ doing extra credit work?” 

“What can I say? This class is more fun than I thought.”

* * *

Next week’s lesson plans, of course, are discarded almost immediately. “BoJack seemed a little suspicious earlier. You didn't tell him about us, did you?” 

“No,” answers Mr. Peanutbutter. “Why are you so scared that someone will know we're pounding it out?” 

“Precisely because you refer to sex as ‘pounding it out’." 

“Who cares about what other people might think about us being together?” He frowns. “Maybe you should talk about this with a friend.”

“But then that person would know we were together.”

“Right,” he explains. “Then you can talk about why it is that you don't want anyone to know we're together.”

“But then that person would know, and I don't want  _ anyone  _ to know.” 

“I know. I'm saying you should talk to someone about how weird it is that you don't want to talk to someone about how we're together.”

To the surprise of absolutely nobody, when BoJack arrives late in the afternoon and Diane squeals in terror at his sudden presence, they have made no progress on the lesson plans. “How’s it going?”

“I've been racking my brain, trying to find a way to get through to Princess Carolyn,” she explains. “What do you think about writing a rap musical about Kierkegaard?” 

“I think that's a terrible idea.” 

“...Cool.”

He sighs. “Princess Carolyn’s not going to learn how to be a good person overnight. She's not even a person. She's just a bunch of evil shoved up the butt of an evil mannequin, you know. Teaching her to be good... it's like... teaching me how to be not straight. How would you even  _ do  _ it? You'd have me stare at Secretariat’s ass or something and then stand there and say ‘gurp, gurp, gurp’? I don't even  _ know _ . I can't even  _ picture  _ it because I've been straight my  _ whole  _ life.”

Diane blinks. “I'm sorry. Who is this conversation for again?” 

“It's for you. I believe in you, nerd girl. If you can teach me and Peanutbutter ethics, you can teach  _ anybody.”  _

“Thanks.” She hesitates. “But definitely a no on the rap musical?” 

“...I mean, if we really…” 

_ “My name is Kierkegaard, and my writing is impeccable. Check out my teleological suspension of the ethical.” _

He cringes. “No!”

“Right?” She laughs. “No, it felt like a no when I was doing it.” Hesitantly, she puts aside her rough drafts. “I’m, uh -- I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back soon.”

She makes a swift exit, ignoring BoJack’s interrogation of Mr. Peanutbutter beginning behind her, and stands outside in the open air. “Todd?”

Todd appears with a satisfying  _ bing.  _ “Hooray!”

“...If I were to tell you something personal about myself, you couldn't tell anyone about it, right?”

“Right,” confirms Todd. 

“So, in a way, you're sort of like a therapist.” 

“Absolutely not. A therapist is a trained medical professional with the ability to absorb and process complex ideas about human emotion. I am simply a vessel containing all of the knowledge in the universe.” 

“Close enough.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “Mr. Peanutbutter and I are sleeping together.” 

He blinks. “Okay.” 

“Obviously, no one can  _ ever  _ know. I mean, I wouldn't shag Mr. Peanutbutter if he were the last man on Earth. But... well, he sort of is, and I am... shagging him, I mean. And I think I'm losing my mind, so please help me.” 

Todd seems to hesitate. “Well, my job is to make your experience here in the afterlife more enjoyable, so I will try to help you. I am going to need some time to read every book ever written about human psychotherapy.” There’s a short pause. “And now I've done that, so let's begin. Have a seat.” He summons an armchair for her to sit on, as well as a pair of glasses for himself. “Hi, I’m your therapist, Todd.” 

She sits down. “Mr. Peanutbutter  _ seems  _ nice,” she explains. “But I mean, he’s in the _ Bad Place.  _ If I date someone who got into  _ actual  _ Hell, am I indirectly telling him that the shit he did to get into Hell is okay? Especially since a lot of the bad stuff he did was related to his wives. I’m just … not sure about this.”

“Hey, guys.” She jolts at the sound of his voice. “What are you doing? Sitting on a chair? That’s pretty cool.”

Diane gulps. “I took your suggestion, and I'm talking to Todd about our relationship.” 

“Actually,” suggests Todd. “it might help me if I could hear Mr. Peanutbutter’s side as well.” 

“Oh, no, no, no. That'll only slow things down. Look, I'll tell you his side. He thinks that I have to control everything and that he has no voice in this relationship. Right, Mr. Peanutbutter? Good. Now, where were we?” She blinks. “I just heard that. I, uh -- I think I have to go talk to Princess Carolyn about her classwork.”

* * *

“I just don't feel like you're  _ engaging  _ with the material... like with The Trolley Problem.” 

“That was just tricky,” she says defensively. “That's all. Why don't you just tell me the right answer?” 

“Well, that's what's so great about The Trolley Problem is that there  _ is  _ no right answer.” 

“Ugh.” She groans. “This is why everyone hates social justice warriors.” 

BoJack smirks. “I'm on your side here, dude, but she is  _ not  _ wrong.”

Diane takes a deep breath. “Okay, Princess Carolyn... trust me. When it comes to human ethics, I just know more than you. I've been studying it my whole life.” 

“It's just that it's so theoretical, you know? I mean, you know, maybe there's a more... concrete approach. Here, let's try this.” She snaps her fingers, and the three find themselves on the rattling body of a trolley. Diane shrieks.

“Oh, God! Princess Carolyn, what did you do?”

“I made The Trolley Problem real so we could see how the ethics would actually play out.” She points out the window. “There are five workers on this track and one over there. Here are the levers to switch the tracks. Make a choice.” 

“T-the thing is,” she stammers. “I mean, ethically speaking…” 

“No time, dude!” hisses BoJack. “Make a decision!” 

“Well, it's tricky! I mean, on the one hand, if you ascribe to a purely utilitarian worldview…”

They hit the five workers.

“Okay,” says Princess Carolyn. “So... what did we learn? Diane? Talk it out, buddy. What are we thinking?”

Diane stares blankly ahead and BoJack glares. “She thinks she just killed a bunch of people with a trolley.” 

“It's just a simulation. I would never make you kill  _ real  _ people.” 

“Oh, well, that's reassuring,” snaps Diane. “because some of the parts of the fake people _ flew into my mouth!” _

BoJack groans. “PC, can we just go back to the classroom?” 

“We never left. Here, I'll show you.” She snaps her fingers and they’re back in BoJack’s house. Diane gives a shaky sigh of relief. 

“Look,” says BoJack. “See, buddy? None of this was real.” 

“Well, they're fake people,” explains Princess Carolyn. “but their pain is real. Does that make sense? There have to be stakes, or it's just another thought experiment.” 

Diane’s eyes widen. “This is  _ awful.”  _

“You  _ specifically  _ asked me if there was a way I could connect with the material more. I'm trying, you guys.” 

She sighs. “Sorry. You're right. I want to help you understand this.” 

“Thank you, Diane. So let's try again, hmm?” She snaps her fingers and they’re back on the trolley.

“Oh, uh, I-I thought maybe we would have a discussion.” 

“No, the whole point is to play out the scenario in real time.” 

“Quick, Dianee!” hisses BoJack. “What's your decision?” 

She takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. I can do this. I am choosing to switch tracks, so that way, I only kill one person.” She pulls the lever, watches with morbid curiosity as the trolley rattles on, and gasps in shock as she sees the worker.

“Oh,” explains Princess Carolyn. “forgot to tell you. This is the scenario where you actually know one of the people. It's your friend Roxy there.” 

“Diane!” yells Roxie. “How are you?” 

Her face loses all its colour. “Roxy, move!” 

“Oh, nice trolley.” 

“Move out of the way! Roxy, move!”

“I can’t,” she says dejectedly. “I’ve given up on life because customers are so retarded. Anyway, long time no--”

The wheels screech to a stop as Roxy’s body explodes and Diane screams as a foot flies into her hands. “Oh, my God!” 

“Again,” reminds Princess Carolyn. “just a simulation... an almost  _ impossibly  _ lifelike simulation.”

BoJack stares at the foot. “Would someone's foot really fly off their body like that? That was kind of cool.” He clears his throat. “Ethically speaking.”

* * *

Several trolley problems later, BoJack clears his throat. “Okay, as much as I'm enjoying watching random people's heads fly off, I think we've taken this trolley thing as far as it can go.”

Princess Carolyn nods. “You might be right, BoJack.”

Diane breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” 

“Let's try the doctor one.” She snaps her fingers and they end up in a hospital room, staring down at five unconscious patients.

“Dude,” hisses BoJack. “What the hell?” 

“These five people all need organ transplants, or they will die. BoJack’s perfectly healthy. Diane, do you want to slice him open and use his organs to save the five sick people?” 

BoJack stiffens. “Diane, Diane, think about this. I'm your hottest friend... No, Sarah Lynn. I'm your nicest fr... No, Mr. Peanutbutter. I'm your friend.” 

DIane gulps. “I-I won't do it. As a doctor, I've taken the Hippocratic Oath to do no harm, and although five people will die, I cannot harm one innocent person to save them and forsake my oath. It's unethical.” 

“Okay,” says Princess Carolyn. “Tell their families.”

“What?”

She snaps her fingers, and a young girl walks up to Diane. “Doctor Nguyen? My daddy needed a heart transplant. Did you save his life? He was working, then a really bad person ran him over with a trolley.” 

She groans. “Oh,  _ come  _ on!” 

“What?” says Princess Carolyn defensively. “I'm finding this incredibly helpful. I think I'm really starting to get it. Oh, I know. We'll do the one where you're in a boat next to a volcano, and you can either save people, or one awesome dog or whatever.” 

All the colour drains from Diane’s face. “No, no, no, no, no.” 

BoJack’s eyes widen. “Hey. Are you torturing us again?” 

Princess Carolyn stiffens. “What?” 

“You don't care about learning ethics lessons. You're just torturing Diane again, aren't you?”

There’s a long, ominous silence. 

“...Busted.”

“What?” chokes Diane.

Princess Carolyn laughs. “I'm sorry. Old habits die hard. Not as hard as those people you crushed with the trolley, though. Boom!” 

“I'm sorry,” she demands. “is this funny to you?” 

“Yeah. I thought that was clear from my laughter.” She wilts under their glares. “Oh, come on. My bad. Look, I'm still on your team, okay? I just needed to let off a little steam. Phew.” She snaps her fingers to return them to BoJack’s house. “See? Back home. All good.” 

“No,” protests Diane. “No. Not all good. You keep saying that we need you, or we'll end up getting tortured forever. But then when we  _ do  _ help you out, we still end up getting tortured. I'd rather just be tortured than choose it. You are no longer welcome in my class. Get the hell out!” 

She points to the door. Princess Carolyn pouts. “But I said my bad." 

_ “Out!” _

* * *

She storms up to them. “I need another session with Todd. It's my turn.” 

Mr. Peanutbutter glares. “I have a lot of problems, too, you know.” 

She hesitates. “Perhaps we could kill two birds with one Todd.” She turns to Todd. “How would you feel about giving Mr. Peanutbutter and me couples therapy?” 

“I'd feel great.” He gives a thumbs-up, and his thumb promptly inflates like a balloon and flats away from his hand.

Diane’s eyes widen. “Todd, what's happening?” 

“Unclear. My guess is I'm operating in a way I'm not designed for, and it's creating a small glitch. But if I'm helping you guys, I say... ‘What has one thumb and wants to keep going?’” He points to himself. “This not-guy.”

* * *

As soon as he’s in the office, she’s rushing to defend herself. “Look, I don't know what to tell you. If Diane can't take a joke, that's on her... just like all that blood was.” She chuckles, holding out a hand for a hi-five.

He gives her a disgusted look. “I can't high-five that! No matter how badly I want to. Look, this isn't about Diane not being able to take a joke. This is about  _ you _ . You're doing what  _ I _ used to do. You're pulling a BoJack.” 

She raises an eyebrow. “Letting your closest friend get fired because there’s a small chance that you’ll get fired if you don’t throw them under the bus?”

“Hey, that was just a one-time thing I did twice.” He clears his throat. “No. Pulling a BoJack in this case is lashing out when you feel like a failure. You couldn't hack the classes. They made you feel dumb and small, so you took it out on the teacher.” 

“You think I feel dumb and small?” she chokes. “I'm an eternal being who can see in nine dimensions. I can see from your aura that you're about to fart quietly and then lie about it. And please don't, because I can also see what you ate today.”

“Dude, you can bluster and insult all you want... also classic Horseman moves, by the way... but deep down you know I'm right.” 

“Whatever.” She waves a hand dismissively. “Eventually Diane will get over it.” 

“Ah!” He laughs. “Leaving it up to the other person to be the grown-up... yet another  _ classic  _ Horseman move.” He chuckles. “You and I are really very similar.” His eyes widen. “What does that say about me? Ugh. Look, PC, it's one hundred percent on you to make this up to her.”

* * *

She gathers the people in BoJack’s house. “I screwed up. I'm owning it. I mean, I'm a superior being... I ought to act like one, right?” She forces a nervous chuckle. “So I really thought about each one of you, and I got you something that will make you happy. I call them ‘opposite tortures’.”

BoJack raises an eyebrow. “Do you mean presents?” 

“Yes, that's better. Thank you. Sarah Lynn, here's yours.” She holds out a small plastic bag full of white powder, with a crudely drawn horse on the front. 

She takes it and her eyes widen. “Holy shit. Is that meant to be BoJack?”

“Yeah, it’s an obscure heroin strain named after him. Honestly, I don't get the appeal. Heroin is  _ pathetic  _ compared to other stimulants, like unicorn horns or the concept of time. It’s worthless garbage.”

She squeals. “And it’s gonna get me  _ so  _ high!” 

Princess Carolyn turns to BoJack. “BoJack... I had Todd make you a never-ending cotton candy machine.” Todd wheels the machine into the room and within seconds BoJack is eagerly stuffing cotton candy into his mouth.

She turns to Mr. Peanutbutter. “Mr. Peanutbutter, here you go.” She throws a tennis ball.

His ears perk up. “Ball! Guys, it's a ball! This is awesome…” He runs after it.

She turns to Diane. “And finally, Diane.” She sighs. “You were a tough nut to crack, but I think I figured it out.” She holds up a notebook. “This is a replica of a lost notebook from the desk of Immanuel Kant. It contains never-before-seen thoughts and musings and several, uh... crude erotic doodles. Interesting guy, actually. The point is, no one on Earth has ever seen this... except for you.” 

“Cool.” Without hesitation, she drops the notebook in a nearby trash can. “This isn't an apology. It's a bribe, and I'm not interested.”

“Yeah,” adds BoJack with his mouth full of cotton candy. “We can’t be bought.”

Princess Carolyn frowns, “What do you want from me, Diane? You want me to give you a golden nameplate for your office? Or you want more heroin than Sarah Lynn?”

“I don't want anything.” 

Her eyes widen and she crosses her arms. “Oh. Oh, okay. Ah, I get it. I get it. You want me to admit that I was wrong. You want me to say, ‘Oh, Diane, I'm  _ so  _ sorry because I didn't understand human ethics and  _ you  _ do. It made me feel insecure, and I  _ lashed  _ out. And, oh, please help me because I feel so... so  _ lost  _ and vulnerable.’" 

“Yes.” 

She hesitates. “Oh, Diane, I am  _ so  _ sorry. I, um... I didn't understand human ethics, and  _ you  _ do. And it made me feel insecure, and I  _ lashed  _ out. And I really need your help because I feel... so  _ lost  _ and vulnerable.”

Diane finally smiles. “Have a seat.”

* * *

The rumbling takes her completely by surprise. She rushes to grip the sides of her table to protect herself from falling as the office shakes around her and the ground beneath her shakes. When it finally subsides, Todd materialises in the seat across from her. “Hooray!” 

Princess Carolyn frowns. “What's happening? What's wrong?” 

“I am wrong,” he answers cheerily. “I can't stop glitching. I don't know why. And it's getting worse. I fear this neighborhood is in danger of total collapse.” He blinks. “So that's the main thing. How are you?”


	7. Todd and Princess Carolyn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Princess Carolyn struggles to deduce the source of Todd's glitches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to write for nonhuman characters when you have NO idea how their biology works and have not put a single second of thought into it be like "her heart or lack thereof skipped a beat"

“Hooray!” 

Her entire body stiffened at the noise and she hurriedly shushed him. “So sorry…”

“To activate your Todd, please press nose for three seconds.”

She did no such thing. “Um, okay, can you walk yet?” She grabbed his shoulders and discovered that he moved with ease. 

“Hooray, I’m Todd!”

“Shh!” she hissed, pushing him forward.

“Hooray, I’m Todd!”

“Yeah, I  _ really  _ need you to shut up.”

* * *

Judah’s eyebrow lifted slightly. “Where did you get this? Did you actually get into the Good Place somehow?” 

“Didn't need to,” she explained. “They keep their Todds in a neutral pocket dimension beneath the shapeless time void. It's right next to Accounting.” 

Another demon frowned. “And you just walked in and stole him? It was that easy? You didn't have to choke out an angel or anything?” 

“Doors were unlocked, no security. I mean, it makes sense, right? They're good, so they're stupid and trusting.” 

Judah frowned. “I understand that you need the four humans to think they're in the Good Place, but using an actual Todd seems risky. Why don't you just have an Emily pretend to be good?” 

“I thought about it, but... watch. Emily?”

Emily materialised with an irritating  _ bing. _ “What up, skidmarks?”

“Let's try that thing again where you pretend to be a Todd, okay?”

Emily’s face fell. “Aww.” 

“Now, really... really try your best.”

“Fine.” In an instant she phased out her clothes and replaced them with Todd’s clothing.

A demon employee raised an eyebrow. “Say, Todd, where can I get some delicious ice cream?”

“Oh,” answered Emily in an incredibly forced voice. “there's a wonderful parlor in the middle of town square. My favorite flavor is rocky road. It contains chocolate ribbon, marshmallows, and your…” By this point her face was starting to melt. “...dad's salty nuts, you fat dink!”

Judah watched, unimpressed, as she melted. “I see what you mean. Use the good one.”

Princess Carolyn, with a grin, patted Todd’s shoulder. “Todd, you and I are about to have a real adventure together.”

* * *

She frowns. “Wait a second, Todd. What-- what are you-- What are you telling me? Are you saying that because you're glitching out…” 

“The neighborhood is in danger of total collapse,” he finishes. “Fun fact: mathematically, it's equally likely to either im- or explode.”

She forces a laugh. “Okay, okay. So I suppose the next question should be, what's causing the problem?" 

“Unclear. The glitches started out small, and then began to escalate, and then I came here looking for help, and then I started talking, and then you looked at me annoyed, like that, and now here we are.” 

“Okay. All right.” She grimaces. “Yeah, this is very bad. Let's run a full diagnostic, Todd.” 

“You got it.” He sticks his finger up his nose.

“...A little short on time here, Todd.” 

“It's just a little hard to get out.” He sticks another finger up the other nostril. “Almost got it.” Finally, he takes out a long role, which unrolls into a large stack of paper. “Here it is. My user manual.” 

“Okay. Let's get started.” She reads from the manual.  _ "Hello, and welcome to your new Todd. Todd are brought to you by the makers of light, darkness, and everything. _ And I need to skip ahead here. Where's the, uh, troubleshooting part?” 

The door swings open. “Princess Carolyn?!”

She turns. It’s Tawnie. “Hmm?”  
  
“What's with the earthquake?” she demands.

She waves a hand dismissively. “Todd's experiencing a slight technical issue.” 

“Ew.” She cringes. “What's wrong with it?” 

“Oh, um, uh…” 

“I tried to eat some frozen yogurt,” supplies Todd. “It looked so good, but I'm not supposed to eat anything. So there was a little earthquake.” The ground rumbles. “See? There it is again.”

Tawnie groans. “Can't you just reset these things? What do you do again? Oh, it's the ears, yeah?” She grabs Todd’s earlobes. “It's... it's, uh... It's down, down, out…”

Princess Carolyn clears her throat. “Tawnie, can I... can I speak to you just for a second outside?” 

Tawnie, with a roll of her eyes and a slight stamp of her feet, goes outside. Princess Carolyn follows. “Look, this is a common problem, and I've got it under control.” 

“I don't know,” she says cautiously. “First you went rogue at the party with your sports car and your weird earring...And now Todd’s breaking down? I mean, it's like you're  _ begging  _ me to tell Judah that you're incompetent.  _ Begging.” _

“Tawnie, this is a temporary problem. I promise. Hey, you know who could use some torturing right now? BoJack.” 

Her eyes light up. “Oh, I  _ love  _ torturing BoJack.” 

“I know.” 

“No, actually, I had this great idea the other night. Thought it was worth exploring. Picture this:  _ Needles.”  _

Princess Carolyn waits for elaboration. “Oh, that's the whole idea.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“...Needles.” 

“Genius, right?   
‘...Yeah.” 

“I mean,  _ needles.”  _

“Oh, wonderful. Wonderful. Yeah, run with that.” She ushers her outside and returns to her office. “Okay, hopefully bought us a little time. Where were we? Uh... Oh, here we go. Yeah.  _ Glitches. In the event of malfunction, run the following tests…” _

She runs the tests. Shining a light into one of Todd’s ears produces a rainbow coming from the other, as usual. His temperature is 99.7 trillion degrees, slightly feverish but nothing to worry about. He easily produces an ostrich steak impaled on a giant novelty pencil that says  _ Lordy, Lordy, I’m Over Forty. _

“Perfect,” says Princess Carolyn. “Okay.  _ Third test. Informational Accuracy. Glitches may be a sign that..."  _ She stops mid-sentence. Her face falls.

“You didn't finish your sentence,” Todd observes.

_ "...Glitches may be a sign that your Todd is processing or disseminating information that is incompatible with objective truth. _ They're talking about lying, Todd.” She sighs. “This is all my fault. I told you a lie that first day we met.”

* * *

She took a deep breath. “Okay. Here goes nothing.” She pressed his nose for three seconds. 

“Hello,” he said cheerily. “I'm Todd. And I have now been fully activated.” 

“Hello, Todd,” she replied nervously. “I'm Princess Carolyn, a Good Place architect. One of the best. Top notch. You're in luck here.” 

“Happy to meet you, Princess Carolyn. I will help you make the perfect neighborhood. Would you like to get started?” 

Her heart or lack thereof skipped a beat. “Uh, one small note there, Todd. Uh, the neighborhood that I want to build might be a little different from the ones that you might be familiar with. Is that all right?” 

“Of course, silly billy.” He tapped her nose. “I build and operate the neighborhood, but every aspect of the design is entirely up to you. For example, if you'd like me to stop calling you silly billy, just say so.” 

“Yeah, I don't like that at all. Princess Carolyn’s fine.” 

He smiled. “Sounds good, Princess Carolyn.”

* * *

“I  _ lied  _ to you,” she continues. “I lied about who I was and what we were doing, and then I lied a billion more times to support that first lie. And now you're all discombobulated. This... is my fault.” "   
“Nope,” says Todd matter-of-factly. “You're wrong. If the glitching was only a result of you lying to me, why wouldn't I have been glitching all along? Why would it only be starting now?” 

“Well, that... that's a good point. I know, right?”

There’s a knocking at the door. Diane nervously walks in, Mr. Peanutbutter right behind her. “Excuse me, Princess Carolyn, but we've been trying to call Todd and he isn't answering.” 

“Hi, guys,” says Todd cheerily. “I'm broken.” 

“Uh, yeah,” explains Princess Carolyn. “I had to take him offline for a system check. He'll be available real soon.” 

“Cool,” says Mr. Peanutbutter. “because I'm just  _ so  _ excited, because Diane said she's never eaten a bone, and I wanted to get some for her.” 

“I’m sure it will break my teeth,” says Diane. “But if Mr. Peanutbutter likes them, then maybe I will too. Because we are...  _ together _ . I can finally admit that.” 

His ears perk up with excitement. “Aww, babe, you admitted it. That's sweet.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.” Princess Carolyn stares at them. “You two are sleeping together?”

“Only when we're done having sex. Anyways, Todd, can you help us?” 

Todd smiles. “As soon as Princess Carolyn puts me back online, I'd be  _ more  _ than happy to help you get that  _ extra  _ special gift for Diane.”

The walls and furniture of the office they’re in seem to move away as though pulled by some invisible vacuum, leaving them in an empty black void.

“Oh, man,” exclaims Mr. Peanutbutter. “We got robbed! They took the walls, they took the floor, and we were standing here the whole time? These guys are good.” 

Diane gulps. “PC, what do we do?” 

After a pause, the office returns to normal. “Okay, there we go. Nothing to worry about. Happens sometimes. Perfectly normal.” She starts to usher them out of the room. “Let's go.” 

Mr. Peanutbutter frowns. “Is Todd going to be alright?” 

“Totally fine, please just go back to your house and wait for him there. He'll show up shortly with lots of bones.” She shuts the door behind them.

“So I don't seem to be getting better,” says Todd.

Princess Carolyn pulls up a map of the neighbourhood, with their office highlighted in red. “That glitch appears to be limited to this building. So Tawnie won't know.”

“That's the good news. The bad news is, I seem to be losing my ability to sustain object permanence. So it's sort of a glass half full, glass stops existing in time and space kind of deal.”

“Okay, let's walk through what just happened.” She clears her throat. “Diane and Mr. Peanutbutter came in, revealed the  _ crazy  _ fact that they're now in a relationship…” 

“I already knew that,” he adds. “and I'm  _ so  _ happy for them.” He turns his head to one side and begins projectile vomiting coins onto the desk, then turns back to Princess Carolyn and begins vomiting them into her face instead.

She removes a few coins from her bra and frowns. “Todd, tell me a lie.” 

“Todds can't lie.” 

“You lied to Tawnie earlier.” 

“Interesting.” He grins. “I guess I did. I suppose after eight hundred reboots, I must have gained the ability to lie. That's fun. I want to try to lie again. I  _ love  _ your outfit.” A large sandwich appears out of thin air and plops onto the desk.

Princess Carolyn reads again from the manual. _ "Incompatible with objective truth.  _ Todd, the problem isn't  _ me  _ lying to  _ you, _ but rather  _ you  _ lying to  _ other  _ people. Like when you said to Mr. Peanutbutter, ‘I'd be happy to help you and Diane.’ That was a lie.” 

“No, it wasn't.” He frowns. “I'm always happy to help people. That's my main purpose.” 

“I know, I know. But it was still a lie, even though you didn't intend it to be, because you weren't actually  _ happy  _ to help them. Because you're in love with Mr. Peanutbutter.” 

He blinks. “Uh, what?”

“After the very first time you were rebooted, and as you were slowly regaining your knowledge, you bonded with Mr. Peanutbutter. The two of you got married, and I think, somehow, you're still, deep down, in love with him.”

He shakes his head. “No, that is impossible.” 

“Think logically,” she insists. “When was the first glitch?” 

“When I said I was happy to give Mr. Peanutbutter and Diane couples therapy.” 

“And the second glitch?” 

“When I said I was happy to see them embracing.” 

“And the third glitch... the earthquake?” 

“When I said I was happy that I'd helped improve their relationship.” His eyes widen. “Ohh... nuts.”

She grimaces. “Yeah.” 

“But I  _ am  _ happy for them. I  _ am _ . I  _ am _ . Am I? I am. I am  _ not _ . I am  _ not _ . I am _not_ that. I am  _ not  _ happy for them.” He gasps. “But how is this possible? I don't have any memory of being married to Mr. Peanutbutter.” 

“You said yourself that Todds get more sophisticated every time they're rebooted,” she suggests. “Well, maybe you falling in love with Mr. Peanutbutterwas some sort of mutation that then was amplified with each reboot.” 

“Okay. That makes total sense. I know what you have to do now. Kill me.” He pauses. “Sorry, I say everything in a cheery manner, but in this case it may be inappropriate. So I'll try again.” He clears his throat and, standing up, leans over the desk. “You have to kill me, Princess Carolyn.” In an instant he’s back to his cheery self. “Better?” 

She shakes her head. “Todd, I can't reboot you. That will just intensify your feelings for Mr. Peanutbutter. And that's what got us into this mess in the first place.” 

“I'm not saying reboot me. I'm saying set me to self-destruct.” He pushes the manual forward. 

Princess Carolyn reads from it.  _ "In the event of continued malfunction, hold down Todd’s nose, and insert paperclip into small hole behind left ear. Todd will rapidly collapse in on himself. When Todd is roughly the size of a marble, he can be launched into space through an inter-dimensional suction tube or eaten as a midday snack." _

“I'm very high in potassium. Like a banana.” 

_ "A new Todd will need to be procured in order to return the neighborhood to functionality."  _

“Easy,” says Todd. “I'll be gone, you'll get a new Todd, and everything will go back to normal. Well, not for me. I'll be a lifeless marble floating through space, but  _ you'll  _ be back to normal.”

She hesitates. “Are you sure this is what you want? To self-destruct?” 

“What I  _ really  _ want is to stay and serve the neighborhood, but due to my feelings for Mr. Peanutbutter, I'm putting him and everyone else at risk. So it looks like it's…” He waves a finger across his throat. “Adios, Toddito!”

BoJack enters, his face covered in needles, to complain about his lack of warning about the needle torture, and Princess Carolyn shoos him off as fast as she can. “Okay,” says Todd. “self-destruct time. Marbleize me, Princess Carolyn. It's the only choice. I won't feel any pain or anything.” He stands up and starts chanting. “Kill me. Kill me. Kill me. Kill…” 

“I really don't want to do this, Todd.” She sighs. “But I suppose it makes sense.” 

“Great.” He points to a bowl of paperclips. “Grab a paperclip.”

* * *

He finished with the restaurants that exclusively sold pudding. “Okay, that was the last pudding shop.” 

“...Great.” 

“Should I begin to welcome the residents?” 

“No, no, no, wait, wait, wait!” She buried her face in her hands. “No, this is all wrong!  _ Pudding  _ restaurant? What even  _ is  _ that? Pudding won't work!” 

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “It's okay, Princess Carolyn. Just relax.” 

“I can't, Todd! My design has to be perfect for me to... to... In order to... accomplish what I need to accomplish. Oh. Whoa, I'm way out on a limb here.” Her face fell. “And I'm all alone.” 

“No, you're not.” She looked up at him. “You have me: Todd. I can help you.: 

She shook her head. “It's too hard to explain, but there are certain aspects of my plan that... that you just can't understand.” 

“Try me.”

She hesitated. “All right. Fine, fine. Um... Todd, uh... There was a horse named BoJack Horseman, born in 1964, in California. What’s his  _ least  _ favourite food?”

He answered without missing a beat. “Honeydew.”

“...Oh, yes!” She laughed aloud. “Honeydew. Oh, Todd, you're a genius.” 

“Correct. But why do you want a food--” 

“No, no, don't... don't worry about that.” She laughed. “Oh, yeah, okay. Let's make all these restaurants honeydew.” 

“Okey dokey.” He instantly turned all of the pudding restaurants into honeydew restaurants with a satisfying  _ bing. _ “Would you like to try it?”

She shook her head. “I already know it's perfect. Let's bring in the residents.”

Todd blinked. “I don't know what just happened, but I'm happy you're happy.”

* * *

“...Princess Carolyn?”

She jolts. “Oh, sorry, yeah. Yes. Sorry.” She grimaces. “Oh. I can't do it.” 

Todd pouts. “Come on, PC.” 

“It's dangerous, is what it is. Tawnie could find out, and then the... you know, the plan, the whole plan... It's bad for the plan, Todd. That... that's the reason.” 

“I don't understand.” He frowns. “Given the situation, it's far safer to initiate the self-destruct.”

“Okay, look, see, here... here's the reason. See, I promised the four people that we would escape to the Good Place once and for all. And without you, we stand  _ zero  _ chance of ever making it there.” 

“The new Todd will be able to help you with that.” 

“Well, all right, but it's not only that, though. See, it's also because of, um... What if Tawnie found out?” 

“You already asked me that.” He tilts his head. “Why are you making such a big deal about turning me into a marble forever?” 

“Because of  _ reasons _ . There are reasons. They exist, and I just don't want to explain them right now.” 

“What are the reasons?” 

“They're  _ reasons,  _ Todd!” 

“Okay, but what are they?” 

“...The reason is _ friends!” _

There’s a long, painful silence. “You're my _ friend, _ Todd.  _ That's  _ why I can't kill you. We have been through  _ so  _ much together. I mean, yeah, sure, for  _ you,  _ you know, each time I rebooted you, you met me all over again. But for me, our... our relationship has become important. You're my oldest, my truest, my most loyal friend. I can't just get rid of you and replace you with some other Todd.”

Todd is silent for a long time. “Well, well, well.” 

“Yeah, don't... don't do that. Lay off.” 

“Princess Carolyn!” His eyes light up. “That was  _ so  _ nice of you. I'm glad you said that.” 

“Well... I mean it.” 

“Look at us. A couple old pals. Trying to make our way in this crazy world that I built. Two peas in a pod. One of whom needs to kill the other one immediately. PC, come on. Kill me.” 

“No. No. There  _ has  _ to be another way.” She frowns. “This problem you're facing, it's about emotion, right? That's a person problem. So maybe we should consult our most problematic person.”

* * *

He brings his cotton candy machine into the office and continues eating an absurd amount of the stuff as Princess Carolyn explains the problem. The descriptions of horrific glitches produce no reaction except annoyance that she prioritised saving the neighbourhood over helping him remove the needles from his fur, but when the story’s over, he’s annoyed. 

“Those two are dating?”

“Yeah,” says Todd.

“...Diane’s dating him?”

“Yes.”

“He is her boyfriend?”

“That is correct.”

_ “He _ is going out with  _ her?” _

“Uh-huh,” says Princess Carolyn. 

“But in a sexual way, not just as friends?”

“That’s right.”

“They’ve seen each other naked?”

“Many times,” says Todd.

_ “That _ penis has been inside  _ that  _ vagina.”

“Yep.”

“But in a sexual way?”

“Yes!” answers Princess Carolyn irritably.

He blinks. “...Huh.” He then proceeds to vomit an absurdly large amount of cotton candy onto the floor. 

Princess Carolyn groans. “Can you help him with the problem?!”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He takes a swig of vodka. “What you gotta do, is -- you gotta find out  _ why  _ he likes Diane more than you. Figure out what’s wrong with you, then try and fix it. I tried that with a bunch of ex-girlfriends back on Earth, and it  _ never  _ worked.”

Princess Carolyn frowns. “Are you sure that’s a good --”

“Thank you for the advice,” interrupts Todd. “I should be okay now.” He walks back into the office. Princess Carolyn pauses, mouth agape, and follows him.

“Um, are you sure --”

“BoJack’s advice has given me an idea,” he explains. “And I should be able to avoid glitches by watching what I say around Mr. Peanutbutter and Sarah Lynn.

She hesitates, then lets herself relax. “ I'm so glad we're friends.” 

“Me, too. And since we're friends, I can tell you this honestly. Take that outfit out of rotation. It makes you look bottom heavy.”

“It does, doesn't it? Ugh.” 

“If it's okay with you, I'm gonna go to my void for a little while. I just need to spend some time alone and focus on myself.”

“Take all the time you need. “ 

He vanishes, and returns a second later. “Hooray!” There’s a poorly-made robot beside him staring at the wall.

“...Hi, Todd -- what’s with the robot?”

“He’s my new sex robot,” he explains cheerily. “I made him!”

The sex robot laughs. **“Hi,”** it says in a robotic voice. **“I love it when you call me father. You must be --”** Todd wheels him around so his face is turned to Princess Carolyn instead of the wall. **“That makes more sense. You must be Princess Carolyn. Todd’s made a lot of talk-talk into my ear holes about you. PC, PC, PC, CP, CD, Pikachu.”**

Princess Carolyn frowns. “Todd, you can't make a sentient robot.” 

“I know. But I did, though. BoJack told me that I should try to find out why Mr. Peanutbutter likes Diane more than me. So, I thought it might be because I’m asexual. Diane can have sex with him and I can’t, so I made a robot to take care of that.”

The sex robot sees a mirror. **“Whoa, look at this glass. Oh my God. I’m in there, too? What’s going on right now?”** It runs into the mirror and breaks it.

“It’s my first time making an intelligent being,” explains Todd. “So he may be a little  _ off.” _

She sighs. “Look, this could be  _ very  _ dangerous. It shouldn’t even be possible.”

“Well, maybe not eight hundred reboots ago, but apparently now it is.”

The robot, prompted by nothing, “ejaculates”, which apparently means it shoots water out of one of its many poorly-made fake penises. 

Princess Carolyn pinches the bridge of her nose. “Henry … is it Henry?”

**“I love it when you call me father!”**

“Henry, could you please give Todd and me a minute alone?”

Todd turns to Henry. “Henry, go back to our void.”

Henry vanishes and Todd laughs. “What a dork, am I right?”

Princess Carolyn stares at him.


End file.
